


Every Beautiful Thing

by dnawhite76, Prubbs



Category: Batman (Comics), DCU (Comics), Superman (Comics)
Genre: Best Friends, Clark lives under Bruce, Coming Out, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Or maybe boy on top of door?, boy next door, conversion therapy, unsupportive parents
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-14
Updated: 2019-12-26
Packaged: 2021-01-25 19:35:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 34,657
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21361561
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dnawhite76/pseuds/dnawhite76, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Prubbs/pseuds/Prubbs
Summary: Clark and Bruce have been best friends for over half of their lives. They do everything together and share everything together-- except for one huge secret that Clark is afraid might break them apart.A coming out, coming of age story.
Relationships: Clark Kent/Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson/Clark Kent (background)
Comments: 43
Kudos: 239





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> _“Love, like everything else in life, should be a discovery, an adventure, and like most adventures, you don’t know you are having one until you are right in the middle of it.” -**E.A. Bucchianeri**, BRUSHSTROKES OF GADFLY_

**CHAPTER ONE**

> "What a beautiful face I have found in this place that is circling around the sun."

**BW:** If I'm not at school tomorrow, just assume I offed myself with my calculus textbook. 

Clark turned on the lamp he had just turned off and read the text a second time before he grinned and pulled his phone off the charger. 

**CK:** That book is barely heavy enough to bruise your toe. You'd have to drop it off the top of a building for it to hurt you-- and your aim is horrible. 

**BW:** I could paper cut myself to death. 

**CK: **You aren't strong enough. 

**BW:** I find it a little concerning that you are more concerned with the capabilities that it requires for me to kill myself more than me actually wanting to kill myself. 

Clark sighed and sat up, not bothering to text him back. He climbed out of bed and grabbed his letterman jacket off the back of his desk chair before he climbed onto his desk and pulled the window open. It was freezing in Metropolis, his breath caught like smoke in front of him as he stepped onto the rickety fire escape in only his socks. They lived in a nice building. But it was old. And the fire escape was pure iron straight out of the 50's. He ran up the rattling stairs and knocked on the still lit window right above his until the curtain pulled back and Bruce blinked at him from his desk.

"You gonna let me in, or watch me freeze to death?" Clark shivered, pulling his jacket tighter around him. Bruce glared at him for a minute weighing his options before he pulled the window open and Clark clambered in over his text books and globbed onto him. 

"Claaaark," he whined in annoyance as Clark tucked his cold nose into his neck and curled into his unwilling lap. "You're fucking freezing!" 

"You were going to leave me out there." He said solemnly. "This is your punishment."

"I hate you," Bruce grumbled giving up on shoving him off and working around him until it wasn't as funny anymore and Clark climbed off of him. He looked at Bruce's homework over his shoulder then rolled his eyes and fell into Bruce's bed. 

"You aren't even struggling with your homework," he said trying to be annoyed at him. He couldn't quite get there though, it was hard to be mad or annoyed at his best friend when he was also completely in love with him. 

Clark wasn't exactly sure when it started. When the friendship ended and the love began. Bruce had lived in the apartment above Clark since he could remember people living around them. They had renovated a few of the top floors to fit bigger apartments and Clark remembered the big fuss the entire city made when the Waynes of Gotham decided to move to Metropolis. Clark had been seven. Or maybe eight. Either way it was over half of his life ago. He had watched from his window as the movers pulled up outside of their building and the small family stepped out of a shiny new dark car. He remembered thinking that the boy looked sad. His parents had been smiling, excited about their new home but Bruce hadn't smiled once. Clark's parents had told him not to bother their new upstairs neighbors. That they were a _ different _kind of people and they wouldn't be interested in their company. But that didn't keep Clark from wondering if Bruce ever looked any less miserable. 

He'd spent the entire summer staring at his ceiling when he went to bed wondering why the Waynes were so different and if they said that about the Kents too. And right before school started, he heard a crash from the room above him. He'd hesitated but climbed out the window and onto the fire escape. His parents had told him it was only supposed to be used in emergencies. Clark climbed up the stairs and saw that the curtain was open and Bruce was sitting on his bed next to a broken lamp, his hand cut on his lap. He'd startled when Clark knocked on the window and hastily wiped at his face before he got up and opened it. Clark climbed into Bruce's window every night for two weeks after that. And eventually he smiled. 

Bruce was everything. Clark's best friend for most of his life. He told Bruce everything, and Bruce _ showed _ Clark everything that he kept from everyone else. And somewhere in the middle of all that, all the times hanging out and doing nothing and everything, Clark fell into something more without ever meaning to. 

"I didn't say it was hard," Bruce told him and turned the page of the textbook. "It's just pointless. We have tests to prove we are learning. Why bother with homework?" 

Clark yawned. "They are just doing it to annoy you," he told him and laid back in Bruce's bed. "Your sheets smell good."

"Yeah, cause they are _ clean _," Bruce said and yawned too before he cursed and slammed the book shut. He got up and nudged Clark until he scooted toward the wall and climbed in after him. "Fuck you for yawning," he told him stealing one of the pillows from under Clark's head and shut the light off. 

He woke up just in time to sneak back into his own room before his mom came to shake him awake and comment on how cold it was in there. She told him to go take a shower before he got sick and Clark exhaled in relief just like he did everytime he barely made it back. He used to wake up earlier, but when his feelings shifted he was too distracted by Bruce to make himself go. How peaceful he was when his mind was finally turned off and how beautiful he had become over the years. But of course that was creepy and weird and definitely not something Clark should be doing to his best friend--so he just slept later and avoided the temptation altogether. 

He took his time getting ready knowing that Bruce was probably still asleep upstairs. He had eaten breakfast, reread his essay on Hamlet and tucked his books neatly into his bag then he kissed his mother goodbye and walked down the hall to the elevator. He straightened his glasses, jumped out when the door opened and walked down the hall until he was in front of Bruce’s door. He knocked once and Bruce’s father answered the door with a grin. 

"There he is.” he said like he’d just been talking about him. He let Clark in and he followed Thomas into the kitchen. “Stand up straight for me," Thomas said. He took his bag and set it on one of the chairs before he took Clark by the shoulder and led him to stand in front of his amused looking wife and son. Thomas stood next to him straightening his back and stared down his family. “Alright. Who is it?” he demanded of them. 

“Clark’s taller.” Bruce smirked and went back to the calculus homework he’d almost finished. 

Thomas feigned hurt and looked to his wife for honesty. Martha made a face and shrugged. “Do you want me to be honest, or make you feel better?” 

“Make me feel better,” Thomas pouted. 

Martha grabbed her plate and headed to the sink, patting her husband’s cheek. “You are very, very tall honey," she told him and then she grinned at Clark. “Have you eaten anything Clark? We have pancakes.”

“No thank you, Mrs. Wayne. I had cereal already.” Martha made a face and nodded, but she didn’t say anything about the breakfast she clearly disapproved of. She didn’t have to though. Clark was all too aware of how the Wayne's felt about his parents just as he was sure Bruce knew how Clark’s parents felt about the Waynes. As accepting as they were of each other's sons they were too fundamentally different to ever really get along. Clark's parents were highly religious. His father owned a small farming supply corporation and his mother was a homemaker. Bruce’s parents were socialites. They came from money and had their hands in a little of everything, mostly in medicine and technology. He’d heard his mother call Martha shameful after she read an article about her hosting a fundraiser for gay rights. That’s when he knew that the Waynes and the Kents would never really get along, and that he was right to keep his feelings for his best friend to himself. 

“You ready?” he asked Bruce. 

He sighed and shut his homework in his binder. “Yeah, I’m ready.” He grinned as Clark cringed when his paper bent in the crease. He shoved the book into his bag and grabbed Clark's for him, batting off his parents who trapped him in a double cheek kiss. 

“Let us know if you are staying late today," Thomas said to Clark knowing Bruce would forget. 

“Yes sir,” he promised and let Bruce tug him out the door. 

“I swear they brag about you more than me," Bruce told him amused as he punched the button for the ground level. 

Clark rolled his eyes. "They don't. You just focus on the negative." He pushed him and Bruce shrugged his consent. They slipped into normal conversation on the way to school. 

They went their separate ways for homeroom. And before first period was over Clark was called to the office. The note didn't offer any explanation but he wasn't surprised when he saw a new student waiting for him in the office. 

"There he is," the principal said cheerfully as Clark came in and turned to the student. "Clark, this is Arthur Curry. He just moved here from Hawaii. I thought as the student body president, you would be the best choice to show him around today."

"Yes sir." Clark nodded and offered a hand to Arthur. "it's nice to meet you."

"Like wise." Arthur grinned and shook his hand. 

Arthur was tall and attractive. He had strong arms and a mess of blond hair that was pulled into a bun at the top of his head. He followed Clark out of the office and he took him on the quick tour that he took most every new student on before he led him to his first class, promising he'd pick him up before the next one. He walked Arthur to all of his classes until lunch and then led him to his normal table filled with the oddest mix of people. There was Bruce of course. Unpacking the lunch his dad messed up again. And Hal, who was kind of a jerk but he was on the lacrosse team with him and Clark swore that he wasn't _ always _ trying to be an asshole. Then there was Barry, a science nerd who was always tagging along after Bruce. And Dick an underclassmen who had just kind of ended up with them one day. 

They accepted Arthur's presence without question. Clark had been their class president since he was a sophomore so they were used to him taking in the strays. Hal was on a tangent when they dropped off their bags watching a group of girls as they crossed the cafeteria. 

"Have you guys talked to Diana Prince yet? The exchange student?" He asked as he watched the pretty girl with dark hair walked over to the lunch line. 

"The one from Greece?" Clark asked. "She in my English class. She's nice."

"Nice?" Hal demanded. "Try fucking gorgeous." 

Bruce rolled his eyes and shot Clark a look that he shrugged at. "Sure, she's pretty." He offered with a shy smile that had absolutely nothing to do with Diana Prince. 

"Pretty?" Hal demanded. "Lois Lane is _ pretty. _ Jessica Cruz is _ pretty _. Diana Prince is a goddess. She's beautiful." 

Clark made a face fishing through his bag for his Calculus textbook. He had some notes he needed to go over before the next period. "I think beautiful is more subjective. You have to know someone for them to really be beautiful. Anyone can be pretty."

Hal blinked at him in disgust. "I swear you are an alien sometimes."

Clark rolled his eyes and looked at Arthur. "You hungry?" He asked and headed for the line before Hal could say anything worse. "Sorry about Hal," he said before Arthur could ask why he was such an ass. "He's pretty awful. But he's a good friend. Just shouldn't talk sometimes."

Arthur shrugged and kept his eyes forward. "It's cool. Must be hard to deal with that all the time though. You know, being you." 

He stepped forward when the line moved and Clark frowned at him. "What do you mean?"

Arthur cocked his head to the side. "I mean that I _ know. _" He shrugged. "I can tell. With the way you look at the pretty guy." Clark's mouth went dry and he just blinked at Arthur whose eyes widened. "I mean it's totally cool with me. I have tons of friends back home who-"

"I'm not," he told him wanting to crawl into a hole, he forced his eyes straight ahead and hoped that his face wasn't red but he could feel his heart pounding in his chest. "Bruce is my best friend, we are just really close, " he shrugged trying to make it seem like it wasn't a big deal. 

"Oh. Sure," Arthur said pressing his lips together. "Are you sure he knows that, though?" He asked a little smile breaking through. Clark followed his gaze back to Bruce who was watching them from the table. 

Clark had been acting strangely lately. Bruce couldn't put his finger on what it was. There were times when he was perfectly normal, then times when something just seemed off. He'd seemed off at lunch. Bruce watched him walk up to the line with the new kid and frowned when Clark's eyes widened at something he said. 

"Can you help me with these declensions?" Dick looked hopeful as he turned his notebook so Bruce would see. He looked at Clark one more time before turning his attention to the page. He spent the rest of lunch going over Dick's work. 

"Seems pretty stupid to me to study a language that no one even speaks," Hal volunteered even though no one had asked. Dick looked up at him and his shoulders rose. Bruce remembered that same posture when he'd seen him getting picked on during the first days of his freshman year. 

"_ I speak it. You speak it. He is a fool _," Bruce said with a nudge to Dick's side. 

Dick laughed and Hal turned his attention to Bruce. They bickered as they always did and Dick finished his assignment. 

-

He scrolled on his phone as he sat in the bleachers. He had a free period this year and could go home, but Clark had practice and all he would do at home was wait for Clark to get out of practice anyway. He normally had someone to talk to here. Though Barry had an interview for an internship and had seemed really upset when he told him.

"Do you not play?" He looked over and saw Diana walking toward him. They'd been the last two of their teams fighting in their Latin class earlier that day. 

"I used to. I dislocated my shoulder last year and it didn't heal right." It hadn't healed because he'd injured during the first game of the season had played through it until Clark had caught him icing it one night. 

"So you watch it instead?" she asked and sat down next to him. 

"My friend plays. I'm waiting for him." 

"Ah yes. Kent. Lois told me about him." Lois was their vice president. She swore that Clark had rigged the election, but he knew that it was just simply Clark's personality that had won him the vote. 

"What did she say?" he asked. 

"That he was the pretty boy with the curls."

He laughed. "Yeah. Number 2." He pointed out to the field. Clark caught the ball and threw it at the goal. John missed the block and the ball went in. 

"Impressive," Diana commented with a small smile. 

"He's single," he said. She looked over to him. 

"And you?" She looked him in the eye and he swallowed. 

"I am too," he replied. 

"Good." She kissed his cheek. "I'll see you in class tomorrow." He watched her walk down the row. She looked back and smiled as she started down the stairs. 

Clark fell down next to him half an hour later. "I'm starving. Do you want to stop and get some burgers on the way home?" 

"I'll go with you, but my mom is making dinner tonight." Clark grimaced in sympathy. "I'm hoping if I'm hungry enough I won't notice what it tastes like."

With a laugh, Clark dragged him to his feet. 

-

Bruce texted Clark and opened the window. The cold air was biting as he sat on the ledge and looked out over the city. It had been over half his life since he moved to Metropolis and it still didn't really feel like home. He missed the trees and lawns of the manor. He missed the horns and the smell of downtown. Metropolis was too clean. His father had laughed the first time Bruce told him that. But more than anything else he missed Alfred. 

"B!" Clark hissed. He looked down through the fire escape and slipped over the edge. It wasn't often that he was the one going to Clark. The Kents weren't very fond of him. They smiled and were always so nice, but he'd grown up around his parents' friends. He knew fake smiles when he saw them. 

"So what's up?" 

"I just needed to get out of the house." 

Clark looked at him for a long moment. He resisted the urge to fidget. 

"Mi casa su casa," Clark said and sat back down at his desk. Bruce climbed across his bed and stole the charger to plug his phone in. They were quiet for a while. He scrolled and Clark read. 

"They want me to go to Stanford now." 

"In California?" 

"Yeah. Medical program is better." He shrugged. 

"California?" Clark whispered again. 

"I could just blow off the rest of the year and not make it in to any of their schools. Go to Gotham University and have them hate me for the rest of their lives." 

"They wouldn't hate you." 

"I told them I had applied to Metropolis and neither of them said anything for the rest of dinner." 

"You did? I remember a month ago you refused to be a Mammoth because the Mammoth fossil found in Metropolis ended up being a fake and you didn't want to be associated with a school that celebrated fraud."

"You applied," he said with a shrug. 

"Did you apply to Kansas too?" Clark asked turning in his chair to look at him. 

"I have _ some _ standards," he said. "Plus. You know that you're not going to Kansas. You only applied to make your dad happy." 

"I could-" Clark started before looking over to Bruce. "Maybe you're not wrong." 

"At least your dad is okay with you not wanting to jump straight into the family business." 

"Have you even told your dad what you wanted to do?" Clark raised an eyebrow at him. 

"I don't have to. I know how that conversation would go. 'You want to help people? You can help people by becoming a doctor'." 

"He's not wrong," Clark said with a smirk. 

Bruce rolled his eyes. "You know I can't be around blood."

"You managed not to freak out when Barry broke his nose at the beach." 

"Freezing and staring until the blood was moved out of my sight? I would be so good in an operating room."

"Tell them that then." 

"They'll know why. Then they'll make those angry faces like it was somehow his fault." He shook his head. "I'll just become a pediatrician and look up kids' snot filled noses all day." 

"As long as I get the hook up on waiting room lollipops." 

"Sure. I'll give you lollipops." 

Clark smiled and shut his book before laying down next to him. Hal and Stewart had been talking about how they couldn't wait to graduate and get out into the real world. He couldn't be less excited. He knew that graduating meant that he'd lose this. Because even if they had made promises that they'd be friends no matter what, Bruce would be shipped off to sunny California and Clark would be here. He wouldn't be a few stairs away. 

"I should head back up," he said after his third yawn. 

"I'll wake you up," Clark offered. It was tempting, but he shook his head. 

"I don't want to get you in trouble. I'll see you in the morning. My mom is making muffins." Clark watched him climb back out his window. 

"We can stop and get some donuts on the way in." 

Bruce laughed and pushed his window shut. He waved before climbing back up to his room. 

-

"I think Diana Prince wants me to ask her out."

Clark choked on his iced coffee. He pat his back as they walked through the gate. 

"Why do you think that?" Clark asked. Bruce looked over to where Lois was glaring at Clark and Diana was smiling at them. She waved and he waved back. The girls laughed at something Lois said and he looked back to Clark who was still coughing. 

"She asked if I was single yesterday and then said it was good that I was." 

"Are you going to ask her out?" Clark asked with a wobbly voice before taking a drink of his coffee. 

"I don't know. She's smart. I think she would have beaten me if class hadn't ended." He looked over to her one more time before they passed them. "She _ is _ pretty. And she liked that goal you made yesterday." He nudged Clark. 

Clark rolled his eyes at him. He pried his eyes away from Bruce's goofy smile that he would do anything for and looked back at the girls who were still watching them. 

"I doubt that," he said. From what he knew of Diana, she wasn't really into jocks. Not that Clark considered himself a jock by any means. He played lacrosse. But he was also the editor of the school paper and organized most of the social events and fundraisers. Diana wasn't that type either. She liked the strong smart types. And despite Bruce's utter resentment of higher education, he was the smartest person in any room including teachers. Diana smiled when Bruce looked back her way and Clark tried to ignore the ache in his chest. "Besides, she's not my type."

Bruce snorted and they kept walking into the entrance way. "I know Hal is a dick, but he's kind of right. Diana is gorgeous and smart." Another stab to Clark's chest. "You seriously aren't into her?" 

Clark forced on a good face and knew that he should say something. There wasn't anyone around them, and everybody who was, was too distracted to pay any attention to them. And Bruce should know. Bruce, who knew everything about him, may not even be surprised to hear it-- but he couldn't say it. 

"Seriously," Clark answered and nudged Bruce with his elbow. He looked back through the doors and Bruce followed his eyes back to the girls in the courtyard. "You should ask her out," he told him and shot him a look before he headed off to his first period. 

-

Clark had the school paper on Thursdays after school. Lacrosse practice was on Mondays, and Wednesdays, games were Friday and on Tuesdays he worked as a tutor for Middle School English. He walked in from his seventh period Athletics feeling exhausted but clean having been released early after a great practice. He dropped his bag on the chair behind the computer in the corner of the room. They had one of their biggest games of the season the next day against the other Metropolis private school, their sworn rivals. So he wasn't exactly ready for the storm cloud that was Lois Lane when she marched into the room-- but as usual that didn't really matter. 

"We need to look at the lay out and see if we can find a space for the memorial fundraiser last week," she told him dropping the now useless templates on the desk in front of him. "Perkins is an idiot and completely forgot to attend the event so it looks like I'm going to have to spend _ my _ Friday fixing _ your _ problems." She smiled sweetly at him, but there was nothing sweet about her. 

Lois Lane had been the first and only girl that Clark thought he might like. They had grown up in the same circles, went to the same church, and their moms volunteered together. No matter how different their family views might be there was a begrudging respect between the Kent's and the Lane's. Clark very quickly learned that his attraction to Lois had been nothing but a childhood awe. She had always been so strong and sure and outspoken, but as far as attraction went- there was never anything there. He knew that she was pretty. He knew that lots of boys were interested in her. But she didn't make his stomach do back flips like Bruce did. And she made it very obvious that Clark was one of her least favorite people every chance she got. 

"As usual, Lois, you are a lifesaver," he told her and logged into his computer. 

"I know." She sighed and scooted in next to him to look at the articles he had pulled up. They went through them together quietly, occasionally she pointed to move the layout and eventually the paper looked mostly finished aside from the missing space for Perkins' mistake. 

"So," Lois said leaning back and fixing Clark with the full intensity of her gaze. "How will _ you _ be spending your Friday?"

Clark saved the draft and dragged it into the share folder. "I've got a game tomorrow."

"Ah, the Matadors game." Clark nodded and he could see something forming in her eyes. "You're friends with Bruce Wayne, right?"

He settled into his chair and watched her curiously. "I am."

"Is he planning on watching you beat the spirits of hopeful teenagers?" 

Clark rolled his eyes and pushed up his glasses. "If you are asking me if he's going to be at the game, then yes," he told her. Bruce always came to his games. Sometimes he made stupid signs. 

Lois grinned and then immediately schooled her expression. "Interesting," was all she said and pushed herself up to gather her things. 

-

Dinner was quiet. It always was. His father said grace and they all spoke about their days one at a time, no questions ever asked. They ate quietly when that portion was finished and Clark helped his mother gather the dishes and wash up. 

They washed them side by side. They had a dishwasher but his mother hardly used it, insisting it didn't really get the job done. "Big game tomorrow," she said softly and when he glanced over at her she was smiling. "Are you excited?"

Clark nodded down at the towel he was running over his plate. "There will be scouts there," he told her, trying to push down the thrill at the idea. "If I do well it could mean a scholarship. I could play on a college team."

His mother clicked her tongue. "We won't need that," she said like the idea was silly. "Kansas State has had your name down for years. Honestly, I don't know why you bother still playing with so much else on your plate." 

She went on, but Clark only half listened. She was always doing things like this. Getting him comfortable, asking him something like she cared what he said and then shooting it down. Telling him what he should be doing instead. He listened to her and nodded when he was supposed to and agreed with her. And when she had finished, he excused himself to his room to finish his Physics assignment. He stared at his paper for a while, watching the cursor on his old laptop blink at him until he eventually closed it and pulled out his phone. 

**CK:** Maybe I'll go to California with you.

**BW:** Are you an Ivy Leaguer now?

**CK:** You know I'd never get into Stanford. But I could go somewhere. I could write. You could do a little bit of everything. We could live together. Be roommates. 

He put his phone on his desk and tried to focus on his paper again. He shouldn't have said that. It would just make Bruce worry and then he would ask him questions that Clark couldn't answer. 

**BW:** Do you want me to come down?

_ Yes. _

**CK:** No, my mom's in a mood. She'll come check on me soon. 

**BW:** Well tough shit, you're freaking me out 

Clark cursed under his breath and rushed out a response. 

**CK:** No, really I'm fine. 

**CK:** My mom was just pushing Kansas again. They aren't coming to the game. 

**BW:** They are missing out, Clark. You are amazing out there. And I'll be there. 

Clark smiled at the phone hating how easy it was for Bruce to soothe all of his aches and pains. 

**CK:** I know. And that's enough

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SuperBat is a burning passion that we barely allow ourselves to explore-- so than you for allowing us this opportunity!
> 
> This fic was named for a line in the song[ In An Areoplane Over The Sea](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hD6_QXwKesU) by my very favorite band Neutral Milk Hotel. It is my (Prubbs) personal opinion that the album In An Aeroplane Over The Sea is the most perfect album ever made. DNA usually lets me name our fics, so when I feel the story is going to be important, I pull from Neutral Milk Hotel. And another of my favorite bands, The Avett Brothers, does an _amazing_ [cover](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CDtjDUN6_Rw) of it. Or, if you want to hear my struggling rendition, you can find it [here](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QoUsxD1LhYk). Pick your poison and listen. Let your soul be healed by the beautiful beautiful words. 
> 
> Be our friends and follow DNA and I on twitter at [@PBrubbs](https://twitter.com/PBrubbs) and [@Dnawhite51](https://twitter.com/Dnawhite51). See the process of our day to day writing frustrations and pictures of our dogs. We are very lame and old and we want to talk to you. 
> 
> And as always thank you so much for reading our stories! If you like us please check out our other works and force us on your friends.


	2. Chapter 2

"Dad," Bruce said as he watched him lean on the receptionist counter. There was a mom and her son sitting in the waiting room. The woman was glaring at his dad like he was some heathen. His dad glanced over to him and smiled. 

"Well it looks like we'll have to finish this discussion next month." He pushed off and directed his smile to the woman sitting behind the counter. "Bye Melanie."

"Bye, Mr. Wayne."

"How many times do I have to ask you to call me Thomas?" 

She smiled and looked down as she said, "See you next month, Thomas." 

Bruce rolled his eyes as he held the door to the office open and in a voice he wasn't proud of whined, "Dad." He shot his dad a look, but it went ignored as they walked to the elevator. 

"So how was Dr. Quinzel?" 

"Fine. You know you don't have to bring me to these anymore." He could drive himself, or catch a taxi, or any other means of transportation other than his dad picking him up from the front office and driving him. Dr. Quinzel was a friend of a friend of his father's who had moved her practice from Gotham to Metropolis around the time Bruce's current doctor had started suggesting they get a one more suited to his age. 

"I know, but it's tradition. And I feel like I never see you anymore." He let his dad pull him under his shoulder, even though they were the same height and he had to duck down some to fit. "So what's the plan for tonight?" 

"Clark has a game." 

"Really? You know it's been a long time since I've seen one of your games. Do you mind the old man tagging along?" 

"I'm sure Clark will be happy to see you," he said and pulled his seat belt on. "No paint though." 

"I didn't know it would stain," he said with a grin. "Your mother was very upset with me." 

"You ruined our Christmas Cards," he said with a smirk. His dad laughed and they headed back home. 

**BW**: I had an appointment today. Forgot to tell you. I'll see you at the game.

**CK**: Is that why you weren't in Physics? Barry thought you'd died.

**BW**: Aren't you in Calc right now? He's going to take your phone. 

**CK**: Sub. We're watching Finding Nemo.

**BW**: Quality Education. 

**CK**: Only the best for us Metropolis commoners.

**BW**: No texting during movies. But really, Dad's shooting me guilt faces. 

"Clark?" his dad asked when Bruce made a show of putting his phone back in his pocket. 

"Yeah." He picked up a couple fries. His dad had talked about how the salads weren't bad, but as soon as he'd walked up to the counter he'd ordered a burger, extra cheese and bacon, fries, and a large soda. When he'd finished ordering he'd looked over to Bruce and said, _ 'don't tell your mother.' _ He stole one of his dad's fries and got a disgruntled yelp. 

"How is he?" 

"Stressed." He looked at his dad and sighed. He needed to get this out of his head, Harley had suggested it during their last two sessions, and Clark had said as much. "So I know that it's important to you that I go to a good school," he paused for a moment, "But if I chose something else you'd still, like, support me and shit, right?" His dad nodded with a frown, but didn't say anything. He could tell by the frown that he wouldn't be thrilled about it. "Clark doesn't have that. He's going to be a journalist. It's all he wants to do, but his parents…" He shrugged. "They don't see that. And Clark's too-" He thought for a moment, trying to find the right word before giving up, "- too Clark. And he can't or won't say anything to them."

"You know what I think of the Kents. And you know that we adore Clark. I know that he has been staying over a lot lately." Bruce looked up in surprise. His dad nodded as if to say, yeah we know, and then reminded him, "We have a security system." 

"Dad-" 

"It's fine. If we thought you two were up to anything bad we'd have said something years ago." Shit. They'd known for years? "But make sure he knows he can come up if he needs to. He's like the second son your mother wouldn't let me have." 

"Because your first one was so perfect?" he asked with a grin. 

"He is. And we raised him to be _ so _ humble," his dad said and threw a fry at him. He laughed. 

-

His dad was stopped by every parent as they made their way up into the stands. He grabbed his arm and dragged him away from one group when it didn't look like the conversation was ever going to end. He ran a hand through his hair as they sat down. 

"Whoo! Go Clark!" Thomas roared. He looked over to his dad as the stands around them went quiet. 

"Really?" When he looked back to the field, Clark was beaming as he waved. Thomas waved and grabbed Bruce's hand and made him wave too. "You're the worst." 

"Clark doesn't agree with that," Thomas said with a grin. "Are those the scouts?" He asked nodding to a group of men sitting toward the edge of the stands. 

"Probably. It's a big game," he said and looked back at the field. 

The game was pretty close. It always was when they played their cross town rivals. He saw a few spots where he could have helped. He would have made it to the empty spot and caught Clark's pass. He would have blocked that shot. He rubbed his shoulder and his dad leaned against him briefly. 

"Bruce," a voice called. He looked over and saw Diana stepping over the seat in front of her.

"Hey, Diana." 

"I thought you'd be here." Her eyes darted to his dad. 

"Oh. This is my dad. Dad this is Diana. She's in my Latin class." 

"Is she the one you were telling us about?" He shot him a look. He hadn't said anything to them about her. "Join us. The more people to yell for Clark the better." 

He shot Diana a look as his dad went back to cheering. 

"I missed you in class today," she said. "We reviewed again and no one else is any challenge." 

"I had a doctor's appointment." His eyes flicked to the field and saw Clark catch the ball. He knew the moment Clark decided he could make it and grabbed his dad's arm as he stood. The throw was fast, the goalie didn't stand a chance. Clark scored and his dad jumped up and dragged him into jumping and yelling. When he sat down Diana was smiling, looking amused. "Sorry," he offered. 

"I wanted to see if you were busy tomorrow?" 

"I have plans," he said. Him and Clark were going to watch all of the Lord of the Rings movies in one sitting. They'd been planning it for weeks. He'd caught Clark practicing his Smeagol impersonation a few times. "I'm free Sunday evening though?" he offered her dejected face. 

"Sounds good. I'll text you?" She held out her phone to him. It was already open to the contacts. He typed his number in it and handed it back. His phone chimed and she smiled before telling his dad it was nice meeting him and heading back down to where Lois and her friends were watching them. 

"She's pretty," his dad commented. He rolled his eyes and looked back at the field. 

-

His dad got to Clark before he could. He slapped him on the back and started retelling the story of every clutch play Clark had made like the game hadn't just ended. Clark didn't seem to mind though. He walked alongside them as his dad asked if waffles were an okay celebration dinner. 

"I love your dad," Clark said as he dug through Bruce's drawers looking for a shirt. He'd texted his mom while they were at the diner getting their waffles that he was going to spend the night. She'd immediately called and Clark had been tense as he'd nodded and _ 'yes ma'am' _d his way through the call. 

"You can have him," Bruce replied and laid out another blanket. He looked at the nest he'd made and frowned before heading down the hall for another blanket and a pillow. When he got back Clark had changed into one of his shirts and was sprawled across the blankets. "I wasn't done. Get up," he said and kicked at him. Clark whined, but rolled onto the carpet. He tossed the blanket over it and tucked it under the end before climbing in. He pulled the blanket off of his bed and grinned. "Okay. Done." 

"You're so weird," Clark said as he crawled into the mound of blankets. 

"And you're not? I know you're going to be bouncing around talking about your _ precious _ before this night's over." 

"You're just jealous of my skill," Clark said and waved for him to hand him the bottle of soda. He turned his lamp off and started the movie. Clark looked over to him with a grin. 

"You better not break anything this time," Bruce warned. 

Clark fell asleep at the very end of the Fellowship and missed half of the orc battle where Pippin and Merry were stolen. Bruce made him rewatch it as soon as they woke up, insisting that they could not eat until he had seen Sam and Frodo across the river. They spent most of breakfast arguing over who was Sam and who was Frodo in their relationship-- to which Thomas and Martha both agreed that the boys were Legolos and Gimli and a whole new argument broke out. They watched the second one in the living room with Bruce's parents before Thomas had to go see a patient that he treated from home. Martha quickly lost interest towards the end of the movie and they moved back into Bruce's room settling down in the nest. Clark sang about fish in smeagol's voice as they ate swedish fish and by the time the third movie came around they were both laser focused on the climax. 

They tried watching the entire lord of the rings every year but never seemed to make it past the second movie. They always started too late and Clark fell asleep before the third disk was even in--but they had come up with a plan, and when they finished it felt like they had really accomplished something. 

"Maybe you should write movies," Bruce said as they stared up at the ceiling. Clark rolled his head to look at him. "When we move to California," he explained without looking at him. "Be a screenwriter and make the next Lord of the Rings."

"The Hobbit already came out," he reminded Bruce, but he smiled anyway. Even though they both knew that Clark would never be able to move to California with Bruce, it still felt nice to be humored. 

They spent the rest of the afternoon planning their fake future until Clark's mother texted him and asked when he was coming home. That usually meant come home now. "You could stay another night," Bruce offered when Clark grabbed his bag and threw it over his shoulder. "My parents don't care."

"My dad would never go for it. I've got church in the morning." He sighed and waved as he walked out to thank the Waynes for letting him stay. 

-

The sermon wasn't that bad. They were on a lighter subject than they had been in weeks and his father even chuckled a few times as the pastor spoke. Clark was over all in a pretty decent mood when the service ended and he stood to the side of his parents as they spoke with a few other members of their church about a fundraiser they had coming up. Lois was passing by with her mom, on the way out the door when she caught his eye and pulled her mom's arm to tell her something. Her mom smiled at her and Lois jogged over. Clark broke off from the group to meet her. 

"Hey!" She said a little breathily. She looked very pretty in a burgundy high collar shirt that had flowy sleeves and jeans. He could feel the few other boys their age all staring jealousy as she smiled at him and had to fight not to roll his eyes. "Great game on Friday!" She said, surprising him. "That tiebreaker was absolutely insane."

He smiled dispute himself which made her smile harder. "Oh, thanks. I thought you were staying in to work on the fundraiser piece."

"I was," she insisted, he cheeks pinking slightly, but just as soon they feel off to their normal shade. "But Diana dragged me along. Insisted that if Bruce wasn’t going to ask her out then she was. She's really excited about their date tonight!" 

Clark's heart clenched and he tried not to let it show on his face. He worked on keeping a schooled and interested expression, wondering why Bruce hadn't told him that he had a date with Diana Prince. His first insane thought was that Bruce knew that Clark had feelings for him-- but he knew that wasn't true. There was no way that he would have been so easy and normal with him all day yesterday if he knew. He shoved that aside and decided that maybe he'd just forgotten… though that didn't feel right either. Not that it even mattered. "He is too," Clark lied with a smile. "I think he's liked her for a while."

"Well, that means that my normal Sunday night plans are canceled." She sighed like it was a burden and when she looked up at him he saw a little spark of something that he knew was trouble. "Are you doing anything later?" She asked like the idea just came to her. 

He swallowed, glad that he already had a built in excuse. "Actually yes. Sunday is family day at my house," he said like it was a huge burden. "No friends and no phones until after nine." He rubbed the back of his neck as she frowned at him.

"Bummer. Maybe next weekend?" She asked. 

"Sure," he said without thinking and she smiled again.

"Okay, I'll text you," she told him and ran off back to her mom walking a little peppier than when she'd first walked over. 

Clark's heart felt like lead as he followed his parents out to their car. His mom had seen the whole thing and was talking excitedly to his father about what a sweet girl Lois Lane was. She went on and on about what a cute couple they would be and how she had met his father during their senior year. 

"All it takes is a smile from the right girl," his dad was saying as he squeezed his mom's hand and Clark knew he should say something. They had just had a really nice Sunday morning, they were laughing and smiling and talking about what a good kid he was-- this was the time where he should come out and tell them. When they were in a good mood and they had just reminded themselves that they loved him. 

But he couldn't. He just smiled and nodded as his parents gave him advice he'd never use and followed them into the kitchen when they got home. 

He played Chess with his father at the kitchen table as his mother made lunch, his hand itching for the phone that was on the counter with his parents, not to be touched until that evening. He wanted to text Bruce and tell him he was pretty sure Lois Lane had just asked him out and he needed a way out of it. He had no idea what he would say when Bruce asked why he needed out of it. But he also knew that talking to Bruce was a safer bet than asking his father's advice. He also wanted to ask him why he hadn't said anything about going out with Diana. But instead he just made his next move and put his dad in check. 

"You should look into a scholarship for chess," his father told him proudly as they set back up. "Much better than Lacrosse. How many businessmen do you know who make deals while running across a field?" His mother laughed at his dad's joke and Clark offered a smile even though he was hurt by it. 

"Yeah maybe I will," he said just to get out of the conversation but his dad wasn't looking to let go of it. 

"Kansas State doesn't even have a Lacrosse team," he went on and made his first move. "It'd be different if it was football or something like that, but Lacrosse is pretentious." He shook his head and took a swig of the beer in front of him. "Maybe you should drop it."

"You know, I was thinking that too," his mother said from the stove. "You already had so much going on with the Newspaper and Student Council and tutoring."

"Spend more time with what matters." His father nodded.

"I'm managing it all now," Clark told them trying not to sound as defensive as he felt. "And I'm the captain of the team… I can't just quit." 

"No one would blame you," his mother said. "They know how hard you work."

"And they know you aren't looking for anything from it," his dad said. "Kasnas doesn't have Lacrosse."

"But Metropolis does," Clark said and then inwardly groaned at himself for saying it out loud. His father looked at him like he was insane and his mom clutched at her pearl like he had cursed. 

"Excuse me?" His father said sitting back in his chair. 

Clark searched his face for anyway out of this but he knew it wasn't there. "Metropolis University has a Lacrosse team," he said slowly and looked down at the table. "We had a few scouts come to the game on Friday and they thought I was really good. They want to come watch me again."

"Clark, we've talked about this," his father started. 

"I know, Pa."

"You've already been accepted into Kansas. Our entire family has degrees from that school." 

"I know, Pa."

"You can't keep fooling around with the idea that you can be some kinda rockstar or writer or Lacrosse player. It's time that you buckle down and start working toward your future." They sat in silence for a long moment and finally his father sighed and put his hand over where Clark's was on the table. "I know it's hard to give up something that makes you happy. But it's all part of God's plan for you. You will do amazing things." Clark swallowed, unable to answer him so he just nodded. Finally Jonathan seemed to take pity on him. "You keep making your grades and I won't say anymore about you playing Lacrosse."

Clark blinked. He hadn't expected that. "Thanks Pa," he said quietly and Jonathan nodded before going back to his game. 

\---

"I don't know," Diana said. She looked over to him. "If he hadn't destroyed it…" 

"There were other ways. He could have-" His phone chimed and he pulled it out. It was Clark. And as always he'd sent the same gif he sent every week of Mel Gibson shouting Freedom. 

**BW: **Did you win?

"He could have what?" Diana asked. 

He glanced over to her. "Oh. He could have reprogrammed it." 

**CK: **I let him win a couple. 

**BW:** Weak. You should have destroyed him. Mortal Kombat style. 

He added a _ 'finish him' _ gif before realizing Diana was looking at his phone. 

"Who are you texting?" 

"Clark," he answered. 

**CK:** I made a pact to only use my chess skills for good.

**BW:** I made no such pact.

**CK:** Chess is the only good part about Sundays. Please don't ruin it for me. 

**BW:** Fine. But I could give him a few pointers at least make him a challenge for you.

"My apartment is down this way," Diana said. He followed her as she turned down a street. 

**CK:** The challenge of letting him win without him noticing is good enough for me right now. 

**CK:** What did you do today? 

**BW:** Nothing really. Went to eat with my mom-

Diana put her hand over the screen of his phone and kissed him. Her lips were soft and she smelled like strawberries. She pulled back and looked at him for a second. Bruce blinked at her. 

"Thanks for coming with me." She pat his chest. "I'll see you at school tomorrow." 

"Yeah," he said as she stepped onto the first step. 

"Goodnight," she offered with a smile. 

"Night," he replied as she darted up the steps and slid into the building. 

**BW:** Nothing really. Went to eat with my mom and watched a movie. 

He looked back at the building before heading back down the street. 

**CK:** What did you watch? 

**BW:** That Scifi movie you refuse to watch with me.

**CK:** It looks boring.

**BW:** It kind of was. The main character was a moron. 

He texted Clark for the rest of the walk back to the subway, and the entire trip home.

-

"Your dad's wrong," he said. 

"What?" 

"My grandfather made more business contacts by playing polo than he ever did at school. My father too." He scoffed. "You are playing lacrosse with a future officer in the army. Possible military contract. Hal is useless, but his dad has contacts all over the world from his manufacturing. And he likes you."

"I-" 

"And that isn't even taking into account me. You could literally just mention my name and have doors opened for you."

"B-"

"It just pisses me off. Just because he didn't do things that way doesn't mean it doesn't work. You could make friends with a brick wall if you wanted to. And you'll be amazing at anything you do, because you work hard to be amazing at everything you do."

"Bruce."

He looked over to Clark. 

"Thanks?" Clark said with a tiny smile. 

"Someone has to tell you this shit. Since they won't." 

They were only a block away from school. Sometime during their sophomore year they'd started walking the entire way to school on Mondays. Sometimes they just talked about useless crap like always, but sometimes they talked about Clark's day cut off from the outside world. He'd stayed quiet as Clark had talked. He knew that he needed to get it out in one go. Once he was done he'd give his opinion and they'd talk about it for the rest of the walk. 

Clark was quiet. He watched him out of the corner of his eye. As they walked along the side of the school building he looked over to Bruce. 

"Lois said you had a date yesterday," Clark said. 

"Oh. Yeah. With Diana. We went to the movies." 

"And? How did it go?" 

"She kissed me." He shrugged. 

"Really?" Clark looked a little shocked. 

"Claaaaark," Hal yelled as he draped himself over Clark's shoulders. "Please tell me you did the calculus homework." 

"There was Calculus homework?" Clark asked with a confused frown that anyone should have been able to see was fake. Hal let out a distraught noise and Clark let him wallow in his misery for a few minutes before dragging Hal off to the library with a wave back at Bruce. 

-

Dick sat down across from him. His teacher had let them out early so they could talk about their projects with their partners, but John was out sick and so Bruce had just gone to lunch early. 

"Clark told me that you talked to him on Friday." 

"He did?" Dick asked. His cheeks flamed as he looked down at his lunch bag. 

"Did you use actual words this time?" 

"A few of them," Dick mumbled. "I don't know how you talk to him all the time. I was doing fine, then forgot every language I ever knew when he looked me in the eye. His eyes are so _ blue _." Dick sighed, then looked around like he might have been overheard. 

"My eyes are blue. So are yours."

"But his are _ blue. _" 

"Right," he said with an unconvinced voice. 

"Oh shut up. You have people like Diana Prince fawning over you. Let me have this one crush."

"She doesn't fawn over me." 

"I heard about your date."

"What?" 

"You walked her home." Dick grinned. He could see the twinkle of mischief in his eyes. He didn't understand why Dick wasn't friends with everyone. As soon as Dick had realized that Bruce wasn't being nice to him because of some prank, he'd opened up and had easily become his second favorite person. He was pretty sure that he was Dick's best friend, maybe even his only friend. Bruce had been pushing him to talk to people in his own grade more, since he'd be graduating soon, and since all of Dick's current friend group were all seniors too. He didn't seem to be trying though. 

"I did. Does that mean something?" he asked. 

Dick looked at him for a long moment. "Apparently not." 

"So did you fuck Diana Prince?" Hal asked as he sat down. Dick choked on his juice box. He looked over to him and realized that _ that _ was what he'd been trying to ask him. 

"No," he answered.

"Damn," Hal said. John sat down next to him and he moved on to some girl they'd met at a party across town. He tuned him out about the time he said _ 'her ass was out of this world' _. 

Dick switched sides. He wasn't very fond of Hal. When Dick had first nervously told Bruce that he liked guys at the end of the last year, he'd only begged for him to not tell Hal. As he watched him talk to John he could see why Dick wouldn't want that. Not that Bruce would let him say anything. 

"Someone shove over," Clark said. Bruce scooted to the side, leaving space between him and Dick. He shot Dick a grin as Clark sat down. He had felt bad when Dick had first admitted he had a crush. Like he should be protecting Dick from getting hurt since Clark couldn't like him back, but Dick had said that he just liked being around Clark. Bruce understood that. Everything was better when Clark was around. 

-

"So there is this party on Friday night," he started. 

Clark looked up at him from where he was camped out on Bruce's floor eating the last of his crusts from the pizza they'd gotten after his mom had burnt the pot roast. 

"Do you want to go?" 

"Not really, but I've been told to convince you to come." 

"What? Why?" 

"Maybe I wasn't supposed to tell you that part. Let's just go to this stupid party. We can troll everyone at beer pong and maybe win a couple hundred off Hal again." Clark looked unconvinced. "You can get that Smeagol statue." 

"My precious?" Clark replied with a huge smile. "You know you're like the ring. Trying to lure me into doing evil things all the time." 

He made whisper noises then whispered, "come to the party," he added more whispered gibberish. 

Clark stared at him for a few minutes then burst out laughing. "What the heck was that?" 

"I was trying to be the ring talking to you." Bruce threw his pillow at him. "Stop laughing." 

"Psstshhwhoo," Clark mimicked and laughed until Bruce was fighting back his own laugh. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's late. I'm late. Everything is late! Sorry guys, I seem to have lost track of my days. I hope you enjoy the chapter anyway?.


	3. Chapter 3

Clark took his time in the shower after his game on Friday. He had eventually agreed to go to the party if only to make Bruce stop weird whisper attacking him randomly through the day. But he regretted it as soon as Friday came. His mother had asked him what he planned to do that day and she made a face when he reminded her that he had a game like she'd thought their conversation on Sunday would have convinced him to quit. He had planned on telling her about the party but after that face he was positive that she would say no. So he lied and said he'd be staying over at Barry's house to work on their physics project. She bought the lie easily enough but it didn't make him feel any better as she kissed his cheek and told him she'd see him on Saturday morning. 

The knot in his stomach got heavier throughout the day. He knew that Bruce could tell, but he didn't ask and Clark wasn't sure he would be able to explain it anyway. So he just went to school and tried his hardest to be excited about the game and the stupid party. But when the game was over and the high from winning was gone-- he was back to dreading it again. 

He got dressed in the blue sweater that he had been specially instructed to wear by Diana through Bruce because it '_ made his eyes look, like, wow. _' And towel dried his hair until it was good enough for him not to catch a cold on the way to Oliver Queen's house. He threw on his letterman jacket and pushed up his glasses before he met Bruce outside the locker room. He made eyes at Clark to show him just how hunky he looked. Clark shoved him to give his heart a chance to catch back up to his brain. 

The party was already decently loud when they got there. Oliver's parents owned a fairly large brownstone in the middle of the city where no one really cared how loud their neighbors were. His parents were gone almost every weekend on business in Seattle so he had become the hot party spot fast. Hal shouted at them as soon as they got in the door and tucked Clark under his shoulder, or stood on his toes and tried to anyway. 

"I can't fucking believe Kent's actually at a party!" He shouted and for some reason everyone cheered. Bruce tried his best to hide his laugh but failed miserably. "You were a fucking beast on the field tonight. You _ need _ a drink. Now," he declared and dragged Clark to the kitchen. He barely managed to grab Bruce's arm to drag him along. 

Clark watched as one of the stoner artsy kids that liked to think of himself as a bartender throw things into a cup like he knew what he was doing. Clark pursed his lips and tried to keep it together but it was all so ridiculous that it was also hilarious. He accepted the cup and smelled it, nodding like he appreciated the drink, but he dropped it on a bookshelf on the way out of the kitchen and accepted the Coke that Bruce had grabbed for him instead. Neither one of them were drinkers. When they were freshmen and it was the cool thing to do, Bruce had been on some antidepressants that wouldn't let him and Clark didn't want to try it without him. So they stood in the corner and watched their classmates, stone cold sober and enjoying the drunken mess that was a highschool party. And then it was a tradition. 

They waded through the crowd looking for the perfect spot for people watching when they saw Diana waving them down. She was sitting on the staircase with a group of girls all looking more primped than usual and Clark had a fleeting thought that if Hal saw them he might die. 

"You ready?" Bruce asked with a grin. Clark didn't know what he meant but he didn't have a chance to ask before he was following him over to the group and Diana hugged him. She surprised Clark with a hug too and he silently willed Bruce to hit him when he awkwardly pat her back. The smile she shot him was devious and it made Clark want to be anywhere else but he didn't have a good excuse to leave. 

"Your game was impressive," she said after a moment passed and the girls behind her stopped giggling. "Lois was just saying she wanted to talk to you about it for the school paper." 

Clark frowned confused at that. As long as he had known Lois she had hated sports, she never wrote about them. He wondered who messed up and forgot the article when he noticed that Lois wasn't behind her. "Where is Lois?" He asked looking around the room but it was too full. 

"She went looking for you," she told him and the girls giggled again. She wrapped her arm through Bruce's and said, "She went into the living room, you should go find her."

He looked at Bruce and raised an eyebrow but he just shrugged so he followed Diana's instructions. The living room was much louder than anywhere else with the music playing off the speakers around the room. Everyone was dancing and laughing or pressed up against walls. He found Lois talking to Dick on the corner of the couch that looked out the window into the street where people were still piling in. Dick caught his eye first and Clark waved to him before heading over. His face reddened but he waved back. 

"Hey," he said with an easy smile, glad that someone was there to chaperone. Lois was grinning at him in that same knowing way that Diana had and Clark wondered if he was the only person who didn't understand what was going on. "Diana said you were looking for me."

"I was!" She nodded. Her eyes were a little watery. He wondered if she had been given one of the everything concoctions. "But then I found Dick. Did you know his mom's an Olympic gold medalist?" She demanded snaking his leg. 

Clark nodded and laughed at the expression on his friend's face. "Yeah, Dick is a gymnast too. He's won a couple local contests."

Dick blinked at him, for the first time his face wasn’t red at all. "I didn't tell you that," he said so seriously that Clark almost felt bad for mentioning it. 

"Bruce told me." He shrugged. "I thought it was really cool. I had no idea. You should let us come to one of your meets sometime."

Dick smiled at him and for the first time Clark realized just how nice his smile actually was. Maybe because he spent most of the time he was around Clark talking to the floor. "Okay," he agreed and Clark couldn't help but smile back. 

"Speaking of meets and sports," Lois said pulling Clark onto the couch in between them. It was a tight fit, the other end was occupied by a group of girls scoping out guys and it was by no means a large couch. He caught himself on Dick's knee and muttered sorry to him before Lois pulled his attention by grabbing his arm. "You were kind of amazing today," she said looking up at Clark through her eyelashes. 

"Oh," Clark bit his lip, "Thanks. I didn't know you liked sports. I'm surprised you came."

"I love sports," she said like it was ridiculous for him to suggest otherwise. "All the balls and hitting. It's great." She waved her hand. "Mostly I just wanted to see if what happened last week was a fluke or if you were really the god of Lacrosse that everyone says you are." She almost purred the last part. She leaned on him just enough for him to feel her chest pressed into his bicep. "Maybe you really are just _ that _good."

Clark jumped off of the couch like she had burned him. It was quick enough that she lost her balance and fell into Dick's lap and they both stared up at Clark wide eyed as he tried to think of some logical explanation. "Sorry…" he shook his head and pointed over his shoulder. "I need to… bathroom." He nodded and shoved his way through the crowd. 

Everything seemed to get louder as his heart thumped in his throat and he cursed himself for being such an idiot. And such a coward. Everyday it got harder to keep who he was to himself and it hurt just enough that he thought about not doing it anymore. But what would that mean? 

He found a door and opened it glad to see that the room was empty. It looked like a study or an office. Lined with books and framed documents and an old desk in the middle. He just stood there for a moment while he let his pulse stop hammering in his ears. He didn't know how long it took for him to calm down, but when he finally went to lean against the desk, Bruce was pushing into the room looking at him with a raised eyebrow. 

"Lois said you literally just dropped her on Dick's lap," he said, locking the door behind him to show that this was a safe space. "Wanna tell me what happened?"

"It was nothing." He shook his head too quickly. He knew Bruce wouldn't buy it. "How did you find me?"

"No trying to distract me," Bruce said narrowing his eyes. "What happened? Are you okay?"

Clark sighed and he didn't have it in him to make something up. "No. I'm not okay."

Bruce frowned then, all of the playfulness gone. "What happened?" He demanded coming to stand in front of him. "Did she say something-"

"No, it's not like that," he told him derailing that thought as soon as it came. "Lois didn't do anything. I think she was trying to flirt with me?"

"Well, yeah." Clark blinked at him and Bruce rolled his eyes. "She likes you. She has for a long time… I thought you knew that." 

"No." Clark groaned for a third time as shot his eyes up to the ceiling so he didn't have to look at his best friend who clearly didn't see what he needed him to. And he wouldn't. It wasn't fair of Clark to assume that he would just eventually understand. He always made that his excuse. That Bruce knew him better than anyone so he would get it. Clark _ had _ to tell him. "Bruce…" he sighed and looked back at him. "Lois… isn't my _ type, _" he told him and fixed him with a look. 

Bruce blinked at him. "Okay." He shook his head. "So you don't like brunettes?" He asked, "cause Lois and Diana are almost perfect."

"Brunettes are fine," he said frustrated. 

"Then what is it?" Bruce laughed, "Too smart? Too mean? Not tall enough? There are a hundred girls at this party who would all-"

"Bruce, I'm gay."

It sat between them like an echo even though the party was almost too loud to hear it. Bruce stared at him, eyes wide and his mouth opened like he wanted to speak but it took him a minute to say, "Since when?" 

Clark swallowed and ran a hand through his hair. He looked anywhere but at Bruce and shrugged. "Since always." He pushed his glasses up into his hair when they started to fog up. "Nobody knows. I wanted to tell you, but I didn't know how because you're you, and I didn't want to make anything weird. And my parents… well you know my parents." He shrugged again like it was no big deal and shoved his hands in his pockets. "I just didn't want anything to change between us."

Bruce looked at Clark and his stomach dropped out when he saw his hands deep in his pockets and the hunch of his shoulders. Clark did that when he was trying to look small, when he wanted to hide but knew he couldn't-- when he was talking to his parents. Not when he was talking to Bruce. 

"You're my best friend," he heard himself say. His chest hurt. Clark looked at him like he was surprised. He didn't want Clark looking at him like that. He wanted him to take his fucking hands out of his pockets. He could feel himself getting angry. He didn't know at what, himself most likely, for missing this. He had prided himself on being the only person that saw Clark, saw who he really was, and yet he'd missed this. He'd missed something that had Clark folding in on himself. The anger slowly leaked out of him. "My best friend," he said again and looked down at his hands. 

He moved and Clark flinched, cracking open Bruce's chest, before he pulled him in for a hug. Clark was frozen for a moment, before he let out a heavy breath and hugged Bruce back. "You'll always be my best friend." Clark tightened his hold. "Nothing is going to change that."

After a few minutes, Clark took a step back and wiped a hand across his face, knocking his glasses askew. He straightened them with a weak smile at Bruce. 

"I want a milkshake," he told him. 

"Jumbling Joe's?" Clark asked, his eyes brightening. They had gotten milkshakes after any loss, or a hard session, or any bad day they'd had.

"Duh. You say that like there are any other milkshakes that even compare." Clark looked at the door and he saw his shoulders shift, the tension returning to them with the thought of going back out into the party. "No one is going to notice us leave. Ten, maybe twenty steps to the front door then we're out." 

"Are you sure? 

"Of course I'm sure. I was raised by a spy. I know how to sneak out of a house." He grinned at Clark as he grabbed the door knob. "The first rule. If someone sees you. Run." He stepped out and was kind of disappointed when no one noticed them, he had wanted to run. He could hear something loud happening out back. 

"That was some really good sneaking," Clark said once they were halfway down the driveway. "I don't know know what we would have done without your training." 

"Shut up." He shoved Clark and watched him stumble as he caught himself. "We could have climbed out the window. Been real sneaky." 

"We climb out our windows every day." 

"Climbing out other people's windows makes it extra sneaky." 

"Stop saying sneaky," Clark said with a laugh. 

"Sneaky?" he asked. 

"Yes! You're doing this thing with your shoulders." Clark hunched over, he kind of looked like Igor from Frankenstein. 

"No I'm not," Bruce insisted. 

"_ We're really super sneaky, _" Clark said dropping his shoulders as he said sneaky. He grinned at him. "It's like you're trying to be sneaky about the word sneaky."

"I was going to buy your shake for you. But not anymore."

Clark scoffed. "You always threaten not to buy me stuff, then buy it anyway. I'm onto your tricks. You can't," Clark hesitated, "trick me." 

"Nice," he deadpanned. 

They joked and argued over milkshake flavors as they walked down to the station that would take them back downtown. 

-

It was dark in his room as he stared at the ceiling. Clark had made them climb up the fire escape when they got back to their building. He didn't want to risk running into his parents. Bruce had reminded him that it was one in the morning and they wouldn't still be awake, but he'd refused to go inside. Then refused to let Bruce lift Clark up to grab the ladder. Because of his shoulder. Bruce had ended up laying on the fire escape laughing for five minutes at the disaster that it had been. Clark's yelp of _ 'not the face' _ when Bruce had slipped and kicked out in reflex had been what had sent him into hysterics. Clark hadn't looked happy when Bruce had finally pushed the ladder down. But he'd ended up grinning in the face of Bruce's delight. Their good mood had lasted all the way to Bruce's room and until the window shut behind them. 

He could feel something shift, but he didn't know what. They got ready for bed like they always did. Clark mumbled something about the floor and Bruce stared at him for a few minutes. He grumbled and tossed his blankets on the floor and set up a mostly comfortable mess of blankets. Clark settled next to him. Bruce watched the ceiling as he tried to figure out what had changed. Clark had slept in his bed countless times before. Clark had been gay then. The only thing that was different was Bruce knowing. Did that change something? 

"Are you asleep?" Clark asked quietly. 

"No," he replied and rolled onto his side. Clark was frowning when he looked at him.

"Are you mad at me?" 

"No," he replied. "Why would I be mad at you?" 

"Because I didn't tell you." 

He let the silence stretch. He wasn't mad at Clark. He knew that. But he had felt something. He just wasn't sure what it was. Guilt? Hurt? "I'm not mad," he said. "But I thought we told each other everything." 

"We do," Clark insisted. "I don't have to think about what to talk about with you, because I talk to you about everything. It's easy." He heard Clark swallow. "But this wasn't easy." 

"Because you thought things would change?" 

"Yeah," Clark breathed. 

"Change isn't all bad," Bruce said. "Particularly if that means you'll be happier now." 

"Did you steal that from Harley?" Clark asked with a quiet laugh. He knew he was deflecting like he always did when he wasn't ready to process something.

"Maybe. Maybe I read it on a bumper sticker." He rolled onto his back. "I meant it though. You'll always be my best friend." 

"Even if I end up murdering Hal when he eventually finds out?" Clark asked feeling tired just thinking about it. Out of all of his friends he knew Hal was the loudest. Once he knew everyone knew. He would enjoy the bubble while it lasted. 

Bruce snorted, "Especially then. I might be the one that kills him and you'll have to cover me. Police like you better."

"They like your name better," Clark pointed out. 

"Bruce is an awesome name," he said way too seriously, "Strong and sturdy." Clark grinned despite himself. 

He wanted to hug Bruce again. Now that they were laying in his room like it was any other Friday. That was exactly what it felt like. Only it wasn't. It felt like he had finally dropped a house off of his shoulders and he felt so stupid for not doing it sooner that it was almost funny. He reached out and grabbed Bruce's hand and gave it a squeeze. Bruce didn't even flinch. He squeezed Clark's hand back accepting his gestured thank you and without another word they fell asleep. 

-

Bruce was curled into him when Clark woke up. He lay there with his eyes closed for a long moment, enjoying the feeling of Bruce wrapped around him. He had always been a secret cuddler. Clark still remembered the first night it had happened in the eighth grade and he'd woken up with his heart in his throat. But now he knew that Bruce reached out subconsciously when he needed comfort. He opened his eyes, feeling guilty for the moment of comfort it provided him and slipped as carefully as he could away from Bruce so he could check his phone. 

It was only nine so he still had time to make it home before his mom lost it. But he also noticed that he had a new message from Lois with a time and the name of a coffee shop to meet at. 

"Shoot," he muttered and grabbed his phone off the charger, crawling back into the blankets to hide. 

Bruce groaned and pushed him as he woke up, completely oblivious to his subconscious snuggle, now in the plight of being woken up too early. "I swear to God, if it's before ten-" he started. But Clark handed him his phone with the text still open. He blinked at it for a minute and asked. "What is this?"

"I have a date. With Lois Lane," Clark sighed watching Bruce when he made a face and looked back at him. "I know. It was an accident. She asked me out last Sunday and I told her about family Sunday and she moved it and I spoke without thinking. How do I get out of this?" He asked watching the gears in Bruce's head turn. 

"Maybe you don't."

Clark blinked at him. "Have you lost your mind?" 

"No." Bruce rolled his eyes. "But if you cancel this date then she'll just reschedule. And reschedule. And you'll probably still be rescheduling and running away from Lois at parties until graduation."

"She would give up before then," Clark insisted feebly. 

"Have you met Lois? She's been in love with you since the fifth grade." Guilt settled in the pit of Clark's stomach but Bruce didn't stop. "What I'm about to say might sound a little crazy. But hear me out." Clark waited. "I think you should tell Lois you are gay."

"Yes. That does sound crazy." 

"Hear me out," he repeated and Clark clamped his mouth shut. "I know you don't want anything to change. But can you honestly tell me that you are happy right now?" 

"I'm … happi_ er _," Clark offered after a moment. 

The way Bruce smiled at that almost blinded him but he clamped it back down. "If you are this happy not having to hide from me, think about how happy you'll be if you come out. You can finally just be you."

Clark was quiet for a minute. That sounded nice. Too nice and too easy and Clark knew that it wouldn't be that simple. But he did want that. To wake up and go to school and not have to add keeping the closet door shut to his constantly growing to do list. "But my parents."

Bruce cut him off. "Your parents are the least involved parents ever. They've never met any of your friends that haven't come over to your apartment. The only connection you have to your parents and school is me and Lois. And Lois will take it a lot better if you tell her than if she finds out from whoever else." 

Neither of them said anything. They just both kind of looked at eachother, Bruce looking determined and Clark feeling like he was about to drown in his anxiety. But at the same time, he agreed with Bruce. He knew that this was the right thing to do. This was Clark's next step. "Okay." He nodded and then stopped because he felt like he might throw up. "I'm going to tell her."

"You don't _ have _to," Bruce started. 

"I know," Clark agreed. "But you are right. I'm not ashamed of who I am… and I'm tired of trying to hide it." 

His mother spent half an hour insisting that Clark put on a tie when he told her that he was meeting up with Lois. He had dressed very pointedly casual as to not lead her on. But he also didn't want to look like he didn't care at all, so he'd ended up in a flannel and a pair of his good jeans wondering what exactly you were supposed to wear when you were coming out to someone. He sent that as a text to Bruce who replied that rainbow socks might have been helpful and snickered as he waited at a small table in the corner for Lois to show up. 

She was definitely dressed for a date. Her hair was curled and she had put on a tight purple sweater dress with this kind of lacy sleeve thing. She spotted Clark and grinned at him and he swallowed before he smiled back at her and got up to give her a hug. 

"Hey!" She said sounding a little breathless. Apparently the weirdness of the night before was forgiven. "I'm so glad we are finally doing this!" 

"Uh, yeah." Clark nodded trying to keep his smile in place. "I've been wanting to talk to you for a while. I'm glad we have the chance." She sat across from Clark and the waitress came and took their order. They made small talk until they both had their coffee in front of them but once Lois had taken her first sip, she settled in for a discussion. 

"So about last night," she started and the pit of his stomach fell out. So it wasn't forgiven. And they were doing this now. "I'm really sorry if I was…" she flushed and trailed off as she looked at his arm. "One of Oliver's friends made me a stupid drink and I was pretty much waisted before you got there."

"Oh, no." Clark shook his head. "That was all me. I was…" how was he supposed to say this. How did other people say this? He had rehearsed a speech to the subway window all the way over and a homeless man had given him a few pointers. Now he was wishing he'd played more attention to that. "I was being weird. But it's not your fault. It's a me thing."

Lois raised a finely plucked eyebrow at him. "Anything I can help with?" She asked with a playful kind of look in her eye.

Clark cleared his throat. "Not really," he offered and scratched at his arm just to have something to do with his hands. "But I did want to… I need to tell you…" he couldn't do this. 

He stared down at his mug until Lois put her hand over his and he looked back up at her. He'd expected her to be annoyed or confused but he was only met with kindness and a little frown when he met her gaze. "Clark. You can tell me." She nodded. 

He nodded back and bit at his bottom lip. He shifted their hands so that he was holding her and squeezed it, thinking of Bruce's hand the night before. "Lois I think you are amazing, but I can't date you." He swallowed past the dryness and watched her deflate before he hastily pushed through and said, "B-because I'm gay." 

Whatever she had expected, it was clear that wasn't it. She didn't let go of Clark's hand but her entire body tensed and her back was rail straight. She blinked at him a few times before she finally pulled her hand back and took a drink of her coffee and admitted a quiet, "Oh." 

Clark moved his hand into his lap and waited for her to say something but she didn't and he felt an overwhelming need to explain himself but tried not to sound insane. 

"My parents don't know," he blurted out and she finally looked at him again. "I'm not ready to tell them. But I think…" he hesitated, "I think I'm ready to be out at school. I just didn't want you to hear it from someone else and think that I was blowing you off or leading you on. You're one of my oldest friends…" that laid between them for a moment like an awkward cloud until finally Lois set her mug back down and squared her shoulders towards him. 

"I wasted seven years having the world's biggest crush on you when I could have just gone out with Hal," she said finally and miserably. 

Clark bit back on his smile. "You don't want to date Hal," he told her brushing it aside. "He's my friend, but he's a total jerk. You should date Jimmy."

"Olsen?" She demanded like it was the worst idea she'd ever heard but her cheeks flushed lightly when she said his name and she smiled. 

They talked about Jimmy for a while. And Clark was starting to get that light feeling again the more easily the conversation flowed until both their mugs were empty and Lois said, "I won't tell your parents." Clark let out a breath he hadn't realised he was holding and was about to thank her five times over when she said, "But… I do have a few questions?" She asked for a silent consent as she played with the cross on her necklace. 

Clark hadn't been expecting that, but he had known Lois for so long he knew that whatever she needed to know came from a place of curiosity and understanding. She asked questions about everything, and he answered the best that he could. And when he walked her home she slid her arm through his and thanked him for his honesty.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Thanksgiving beautiful readers!
> 
> This year DNA and I have posted more stories that we have... probably ever in our fic writing lives. We could not be more grateful for the time and the trust given to us, and we are very excited to share all of the new stories and fandoms and pairings we've been working on. 
> 
> However you celebrate, of you celebrate, we hope your holiday is wonderful. And know that we are very thankful for you!
> 
> -Prubbs


	4. Chapter 4

It felt like an entire lifetime had passed by when it was time to go to school on Monday. Sunday had been joyously uneventful so the walk to school was more fun than normal, mostly just a recap of Clark's not-date. Bruce hadn't been surprised by how well Lois had taken the news but Clark couldn't stop reeling about it. That made two of his friends that had no cares about his sexual orientation. He knew that everyone probably wouldn't be that way. But it gave him hope that this would be an easier transition than he thought. 

He wasn't really sure how to go about it. He sat through most of his English class daydreaming about stupidly elaborate ways to come out to the entire school, but he immediately tabled that idea. Not that it would really be necessary. He was almost positive that Lois would tell Diana and her group of friends, and if they knew, then sure enough the whole school would know on it's own before long. 

Sure enough, Clark could feel people staring when he got to the cafeteria. He kept his head forward and tried to focus on acting like he didn't notice as he got in line. He felt a tap on his shoulder and smiled when Arthur frowned around them. "You know everyone is talking about you right?" He asked in way of greeting. 

Clark took a deep breath and nodded. "Yeah I know."

Arthur crossed his arms. "Is it okay, or do I need to kick someone's ass?" He asked and it was so blunt that Clark couldn't help but grin at him. 

"It's fine." He waved it off. "How have you been settling in?" They talked about Arthur's first couple weeks and how he had joined the swim team as they walked through the line. When they reached the end Arther gave him a pat on the shoulder and said to let him know about the ass kicking. 

He made it back to his table and dropped down next to Bruce, not surprised at all when Hal almost jumped out of his chair and smacked his hands on the table. 

"Is it true?" He demanded as loud as ever. "Are you gay?" 

It was blunt, but Clark had expected as much. Still he was surprised at how relaxed he felt. The entire table and a few around them were tense and looking between the two of them like they thought they might fight. Bruce's hand was curled into a fist in his lap. He leaned back in his chair and looked at Hal. 

"Yep. It's true," he told him. "I'm super gay." And he waited. 

Hal looked down at the table and shook his head. "That's _ awesome." _

\--- 

"Clark's gay?" Dick asked while Bruce was drinking from the fountain. He let the water stop and looked over to him. There was an excited panic in his eyes. Like he couldn't decide how he felt about the news. 

"Yes," he replied and stood up. Dick followed after him, nearly jogging to keep up with him. 

"Why didn't you tell me?" Dick asked. 

"Because I didn't know," he replied, ignoring the sour feeling in his chest.

"I feel like this is some dream and I'm going to wake up drenched in pig's blood," Dick continued oblivious to Bruce's melancholy. 

"You've been watching too many movies." 

"Or you haven't been watching enough," Dick replied. Then stopped and looked around. "Did you just walk me to class?" 

The bell rung. "You were going to be late," Bruce replied and walked off. 

When lunch came around he had been asked about Clark by three different people that he'd never talked to before. He ignored them each time, but they all seemed to take his silence as their confirmation and walked off whispering to their friends. Dick had stared at Clark with amazement when he walked in like he always did. Bruce elbowed him and told him to stop drooling with a grin, which earned him a glare and an elbow back. 

Clark sat down and Bruce wanted to ask if he was okay, but before he could Hal slammed his hands down on the table. His hands clenched and he watched Hal carefully as the moment after he demanded his answer stretched. He could feel the tightness of Dick's shoulder on his right and Clark's knee jerk reaction before he forced himself to relax. When Clark replied with an easy acceptance, Bruce glanced over to him. 

"That's awesome," Hal said and Bruce stared in shock for a few seconds before Clark pinched his thigh under the table. 

"It is?" Clark said. 

"Do you realize how hard it is to date when you're single?" Hal waved his hand up and down at Clark. "If you're gay then I have a fighting chance." 

"Maybe if you weren't such an asshole, girls might like you more," John chimed in. The table laughed and they moved on to poking fun at Hal's expense. 

-

"So today sucked less than I thought it would," Clark commented as they walked home. 

"Hn," he grunted and swiped another text off his screen. Yet another person asking Bruce if the rumors were true. 

"You okay?" Clark asked. He looked over to him. 

"Huh? Oh yeah." Clark didn't look like he believed him. "I told you no one would make a big deal about it."

"I know, but I was still a little worried." 

His phone went off again and he barely glanced at the notification before shoving it back into his pocket. 

"What was that?" Clark asked. 

"People keep texting me about you." He shrugged. "It seems like everyone is curious."

"I'm sorry," Clark said. 

"I'd rather they ask me than bother you about it. I can ignore them. You're too nice. You'd end up answering every person." 

"No I wouldn't," Clark said weakly. 

"Right," he said. "So are you coming over after dinner? My mom found a recipe for ice cream." 

"Probably. I have to finish my paper though." 

-

"I uh," Dick looked up at him, then over to Clark then back to Bruce with a panicked gaze for a moment. "I have a meet on Saturday. You could come if you wanted." 

"We'll totally come," Clark said. 

"Yeah," he said as Dick smiled at Clark. He watched as Clark's cheeks went red. He hadn't seen him look so flustered before. 

"Awesome. I'll send Bruce the details." 

"Here send them to me too," Clark said and stole Bruce's phone. 

**BW: **I suck and should have created this group chat last year.

**CK:** You are so right B. You do suck.

Dick laughed and Bruce resisted the urge to respond on the chat when Clark was sitting next to him. "I have to run, but I'll see you guys at lunch." Dick waved, shot them another smile and ran off. 

"I don't suck. I just didn't know you wanted to talk to Dick that much," he said. He went back to his text book. He had a psychology test and their ice cream social, as his mom had called it, had run late into the night. 

"He's nice," Clark offered with a shrug and a small smile. He looked at him out of the corner of his eye. That smile was new too. 

-

"So what kind of guy _ is _ your type?" Bruce asked as they sat in the bleachers at the middle school across town. The gym was huge, bigger than the one at their school. 

"What?"

"You never did tell me your type. I know not girls, but what about guys?" 

"Why do you want to know?" 

"Because you're my friend?" he said and looked over to Clark who looked slightly defensive.

"I don't know. I haven't thought about it much, you know?" Clark mumbled. Bruce didn't know if he was telling the truth, but he could see that Clark was uncomfortable. "I think I like dark hair?" Clark offered. Bruce let the subject drop. 

Clark suddenly smiled and waved. Bruce followed his line of sight to where Dick was weaving his way through the crowd and into the stands. He was in baggy sweats and a black and blue singlet. Dick's own voice saying _ 'they're so blue' _ popped in his head when he looked over to him. 

"You guys really came," Dick said and put his knees on the row in front of them so he was almost standing before them. 

"We said we would," Clark said. They had said a lot. Since Clark started it, the group chat had been busy. It went off in bursts that left Bruce with unread messages in the double digits. He read most of their conversations, chiming in occasionally, but some of it didn't make sense. Dick and Clark slipped tangent to tangent without missing a beat. He felt something weird in his chest as he listened to them talk. He glanced at the crowd and then back to Dick and realized something he should have noticed before. 

\---

Clark meant it when he said that he had never thought about his type before. Before he was out, the only guy he'd ever thought about was Bruce. He was in love with Bruce, and he still was. But now Bruce knew he was gay and Clark knew that Bruce was straight-- and as much as he wanted that to not be the case, he also knew that nothing would ever happen between them. 

And he'd never really noticed just how nice Dick's smile was. Before everything, Dick had always run away at the sight of him so Clark always assumed that he didn't like him. But it was like a switch had gone off in him. Dick sat next to Clark at lunch without talking to his sandwich the entire time and when he saw him in the hall he actually waved. And sometimes when he waved Clark smiled because he couldn't stop himself. 

"Do you think Dick likes me?" He asked when he met Bruce after practice on Wednesday. 

Bruce was flipping through a text book looking bored but he had been a little off all week. They'd texted like usual like nothing was wrong, but in person Bruce was distant and Clark could tell he was upset about something even though Bruce insisted that he wasn't. So Clark pretended that he didn't notice because he didn't want to push Bruce even further away when he was feeling even more exposed than ever. 

"Do you _ want _ him to like you?" Bruce asked him pushing off from the wall to follow him, but he didn't stop reading. 

Clark thought about it. "I don't know." He shrugged. Heat ran up his neck the more he thought about it until he couldn't stop. "He's funny. And he likes the Lord of the Rings."

"All the requirements that one needs in a potential partner." Bruce smirked despite his mood and shoved his book back in his bag. 

"Shut up." Clark grinned and shook his head. "He's cute too. I mean, I guess I never really thought about it before because he never talked to me." He shrugged and pushed open the door leading back outside. "But now we talk, like, everyday." 

"The group chat's been quiet since Saturday," Bruce said suspiciously. 

Clark flushed and Bruce made a face he didn't really understand as he admitted, "I called him after the meet." He shrugged like it wasn't a big deal. 

"Did you ever finish Mrs. Bern's essay?" The change in subject was almost shocking but he answered as they walked down the stairwell to the subway. 

-

They had an extra practice after school the next day since they were getting closer to playoffs. Lois made a big stink about him missing out on the paper, but also insisted that she didn't need him to double check her already perfect work. He still asked Jimmy to sit with her and grinned when she shot him a look on the way out. 

Clark was surprised when he found Dick sitting on the bleachers with Bruce when practice ended, but it was a good surprise. That kind of makes-your-heart-jump-into-your-throat surprise that had him feeling uncharacteristically shy. Whatever it was, Dick obviously felt it too since he jumped to his feet when Clark approached and kind of half wave and one arm hugged him. "Sorry," he laughed when he let him go, "I'm sure I stink."

"It's good stink," Dick said quickly and his face lit up red. "No, I mean-- you don't. I'm sorry, I'm nervous." 

That just made Clark more nervous. "W-why?"

Dick straightened his back and set his resolve, "I was wondering if you had plans after the game tomorrow," he said quietly, but his eyes stayed fixed on him. "They are showing Fellowship of the Ring in that artsy theater just outside town… I thought maybe… if you want--"

"Yes," he said jumping the gun. Dick blinked surprised and Clark cleared his throat. "I mean, yeah, I'd really like that." He bit back a smile that he knew would be ridiculous if he let it out. 

"Okay, great." Dick beamed and hugged Clark again. "I'll see you tomorrow." 

Clark watched him go for a moment before he fell onto the bleachers next to Bruce who had watched the whole thing in silence. Clark pulled his face out of his hands and looked at him with wide eyes. 

"That was the most painful thing I have ever witnessed," Bruce told him after a moment of deep consideration. 

Clark laughed and shoved him. "Shut up," he told him and his smile busted loose. He couldn't shake it the entire way home. 

\---

Bruce sat in the plush green chair and looked around the office. He knew every detail. It hadn't changed much in the last six years. Her bookshelf sat behind her desk. It was nearly filled with books, but little trinkets from her patients sat on them, sometimes even climbing up the books. On her desk was a single glass rose and a picture of her and her wife. He stared at the photo. The ticks of the mantel clock on one of her cabinets grew louder and louder the longer they sat in silence. She watched him, then looked where he was staring. 

"Bru-" 

"Clark's gay." He blinked a few times and turned to look at Harley. He hadn't meant to blurt it out like that, but he'd been thinking about it for the last few weeks. He had known that he wanted to talk to Harley about it since Clark had told him. She'd given him her number, in case he ever needed to talk, but it had seemed like such a stupid thing to call about. He knew that if he'd admitted that she would have told him that it wasn't stupid, but it was. He just sat in the silence that followed. 

"And how does that make you feel?" Harley asked with a big grin. They'd talked about his former therapist and his fondness for that question. He knew that she was trying to lighten the mood, to let him relax, and he could feel it working. 

"I _ feel _ confused," he answered with a heavy emphasis. It was the truth. "It doesn't matter to me that he's gay. He's still Clark. You know?" she nodded. "But it does?" 

"It matters?" 

"I guess? It feels different. He's different. Or I'm different? I don't know." 

"What is different?" 

"You know Dick?" Harley nodded. "They've been talking. I should be happy. Cause Dick doesn't have a lot of friends, but I'm not. Clark is-" he laid his head back on the chair. "They're going to watch Lord of the Rings tonight." 

"What?" Harley asked. 

"It's playing at a theater downtown. I think it's a date. It sounded like a date." 

"So your two best friends are going on a date together? To see…" she trailed off with a frown. 

"I hate it." 

She looked up at him.

"I don't want them to go out. I don't want them to watch Lord of the Rings. That's our thing. It's mine and Clark's not-" He let out a frustrated breath. "It's supposed to just be for us." 

"Would they be happy together?" 

He looked over to Harley. She had on her blank face that he hated sometimes, like now. 

"Maybe. But-" 

"But…" 

"But I don't want Clark to be happy with Dick." 

"Why not?" 

"Because I want him to be happy with me." 

"You know that Clark dating Dick wouldn't mean that you suddenly aren't friends anymore." 

"That's not what I meant." 

"What did you mean?" 

"I want him to be happy _ with me. _ I have this thing in my chest and it hurts so much when I see him sometimes. But when he's talking to me, when it's just us, it's like it never existed. It's just us and I'm happy." 

Harley smiled at him. It wasn't very often that he said that, and he knew that he'd get a hug at the end of their session. 

"What do you think that feeling is?" 

"Jealousy?" he offered. He'd been thinking about it. 

"Have you been jealous before?" 

"No?" He'd never felt like this. 

"So tell me about what makes you feel jealous." 

"We went to one of Dick's meets last weekend." 

"Oh. He finally invited you?" She smiled. 

"I think he wanted to just invite Clark," he answered with a shrug. She shrugged back at him. "It bothered me. I asked Dick last month if I could go and he told me I didn't have to. But then he asked us to come and seemed really excited that we'd be there. We had a group chat, that was the three of us. It was mostly them talking, but I liked reading it. Then the other day Clark told me that him and Dick had been talking. But they weren't using the group chat anymore." He stared at his fist in his lap. Slowly he pressed it against his knee and breathed out.

"And that made you jealous." 

"Yeah." 

"So answer this for me. Why do you think you're jealous?" 

He stared at his hands. Obvious answers popped in his head, but he moved past them. To the real reason. The reason that had been lurking just out of sight for the last two weeks. The reason that should have been terrifying. Maybe it would if it had felt new, but it felt like a solid part of him. Something that had been there for a long time, like a mark on his skin that he had just never noticed before. 

"Because-" He looked at Harley and he could see that she knew what he was going to say. She smiled, welcoming him to continue. 

-

"So how is Harley?" Thomas asked. 

"She's fine," he answered. He could still smell the faint sugar sweet scent of her perfume as she hugged him. He glanced over to his dad, who smiled at him. 

They talked about nothing as they drove. His dad debated food choices while they passed them. He wasn't surprised that they pulled into the Panda Express parking lot. His dad had been talking about how much he was craving egg rolls for the last few days when his mom wasn't around. 

They ordered and sat down. He fiddled with his chopsticks, rubbing them together as his dad started eating. 

"I'm in love with Clark." 

His dad coughed and choked on the noodles he was shoveling into his mouth. When he cleared his throat and drank a few soothing gulps of soda he looked at Bruce. 

"Does Clark know that?" Thomas asked. 

"Not yet," he replied. He didn't know when he was going to tell him. He didn't want to sabotage his and Dick's date. Dick was his friend. Bruce wanted him to be happy too, but the selfish part of him wanted to ruin everything and call Clark right then. 

"Let me tell your mother." 

"What?" 

"We have a bet. Let me tell her so I can see her face when she realizes how wrong she's been this entire time." 

"You have a bet about me and Clark?" 

"Your mom thinks you've been together for a while now. I knew better." 

"Clark just told me he was gay a few weeks ago," he said and tried to push past the explosion happening in his head that his parents had known about them before either one of them had. 

"Really? Huh." His dad went back to his noodles with a thoughtful look. 

-

Clark knocked on his window and he got up and pushed it open. He climbed out before Clark could move to climb in. "What's up?" Clark asked as they settled on the fire escape, their legs hanging over the edge. 

Bruce tucked one knee against his chest and leaned against it. "How was your night?" 

"It was good," Clark smiled. "There weren't very many people there so it felt like it was just us. He liked my impersonation." 

He turned to look at Clark. His heart thudding heavily in his chest. "So it went well?" 

"I think so? I haven't really…" Clark trailed off. "He kissed me." Clark's words were soft and he was looking out over the city with a little smile. 

That feeling was there again in his chest. Spreading out and tearing through him. "Don't date Dick." 

"Huh? Why not?" Clark looked surprised, and a little like he was preparing to be angry. 

"Because I love you."

Clark felt like he'd been hit over the head. Surely he was dreaming. There was no way that Bruce was sitting next to him looking out at the city and saying that he loved him. 

"You love me," he repeated. It sounded really far away like he was listening to himself through a telephone. 

"I love you." Bruce nodded like it was just another fact, completely unreadable as always. But something about his tone pulled Clark back into himself, allowing him to actually sit in the situation. 

"Okay," he said, turning so that he was facing Bruce, one leg hanging over the side of the fire escape, the other tucked in between them. "But do you, like, love me, or are you _ in _ love with me?" 

"There is a difference?" 

"Of course there is a difference. One is like, yeah man I love you. It's a general statement. Like you love bats and you love milkshakes. But being in love with someone is singular. It's only for them."

"Well then, I'm that one."

"Which one?"

"I'm singularly _ in _ love with you," Bruce said exasperated, his fists balled into his lap where he was staring and he completely missed the moment that Clark's heart split open until he grabbed one of Bruce's fists in both of his hands and his eyes shot up to him. 

"For how long?"

Bruce blinked at him, still not sure about Clark's response. "I don't know. A while I think? But you're you and I didn't realize it." 

"I'm pretty sure I've been in love with you since seventh grade," he told him in an excited gush that he couldn't keep down. "Right after you tried to punch Stewart for breaking Barry's volcano and he moved so you hit the wall and skinned the crap out of your hand. You made me blow on it and hold it away from you the entire walk home and I remember thinking that I could hold your hand every day and not care about anything else." 

The confusion dropped off Bruce's face. "You're in love with me?" He asked in a small voice. 

"Singularly," Clark confirmed just as softly. And now that it was out there he felt warm and shy all at once. Like everything he thought he might be feeling at Dick but ten times stronger. And then he groaned and put his head in his hands. "Fuck. Dick," he remembered. The date had been great, they laughed a lot and even held hands half way through the movie. The kiss goodnight had been a little awkwardly but overall they'd had a really nice time-- but there was no way that he could date him now. 

"You could keep seeing him if you really want to-"

"Shut up." Clark sighed and pulled his head back up. "I've never had to break up with someone before. How did you do it with Selina?" 

Bruce smirked thinking about it. "She told me, _ 'I don't think I really like you anymore.' _ And I said, _ 'Okay.' _" He laughed but it stopped really sudden and he looked confused when he looked back at Clark. "Maybe I've liked you longer than I thought."

They looked at each other for a moment. Just a moment like they would have any other day with any other idea stretching between them. But everything had changed. They weren't the same, and whatever that meant now, they couldn't go back to where they were before. It was both terrifying and exhilarating, and more than anything, more than he wanted to hug him and more than he wanted to kiss him, Clark just wanted to talk to his best friend about what all of this would mean for them. So he pushed through. 

"So what now?" He asked so softly it was almost blown away by a cold rush of wind that whizzed by them. "I'm out, and I like being out. But is that something you want? I'm sure you are processing a lot."

"I am," Bruce agreed and fixed Clark with a hard look. "But I'm not ashamed of loving you. I don't want…" He stopped for a moment and started again. "What do you want?"

Clark swallowed hard. He had wanted so many things with Bruce for so long, but he didn't want to scare him or make him feel uncomfortable, but also really wanted to say all the things he'd been holding back. "I…" he started and looked down at the hand he was still holding in both of his. 

"I want to hold your hand whenever I feel like it," he said simply. "And I want to keep sneaking into your bedroom and talking to you all day. And the only thing I want to change is that I get to kiss you sometimes. Like when you say something really smart or make me feel better about my parents. Or-" 

The kiss surprised him. It was soft and tentative and a little scared, but it was also warm and blunt and absolutely, perfectly Bruce

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thos is probably my favorite end to any chapter ever. Please enjoy the cuteness now--- who knows how long it will last! 
> 
> We hope everyone is having a great week! Enjoy the chapter!


	5. Chapter 5

Dick took it widely better than Clark thought that he would. Bruce had offered to come with him but Clark thought it would be better on their own. But Dick just laughed when he told him what had happened and then grinned at him. 

"I knew it!" He shook his head and told Clark to continue. But that was all there was for now. "No, really it's okay," Dick insisted after he apologized again. "I really liked going out with you last night, but I think, honestly, you and Bruce are kind of perfect for each other. You guys just… fit. You know?" 

Clark flushed slightly at that and nodded, his mouth feeling dry. "Yeah," was all he could say. 

"I can talk to you without malfunctioning now." Dick grinned ticking off all the good things. "And I got to kiss you. So I don't have to wonder forever." He took a sip of his milkshake and offered Clark his hand. "Friends?" 

Clark smiled and shook it. "Yes, please."

-

Dick sat down next to him on the bleachers during lacrosse practice. He had never joined him before, but Bruce supposed that it did make sense. 

"Congratulations," Dick said with a big smile. 

"Thanks?" he offered. 

"I want you to know that when I told you about my crush on Clark it was because I thought you'd understand, cause you had one too." 

He looked over to Dick. "I guess I did?" he said. Dick rolled his eyes. "His eyes are _ so blue." _

"You don't get to make fun of me for shit I said about your boyfriend." 

Bruce blinked at him, the word sinking in and feeling strange and new and good. 

"Ugh. Are you going to be all lovestruck all the time? Cause this face is a weird face, and I don't like it." Dick waved his hand in front of him and screeched when Bruce grabbed it and started pinching him. Dick cried uncle and he let him go. "Seriously though. Are you telling people?" 

"We're not, not?" he answered. "I don't see why it matters if anyone knows. I wouldn't walk around announcing that I was dating a girl, why is it any different with Clark?" 

Dick frowned at him for a few moments like he was trying to decipher what he'd said before shrugging and saying "Okay," as he stood. "Well I'm going to miss my bus if I don't run. But I know that I hate you a little bit. That was a really nice kiss." 

"It is," he said and Dick tripped over the stairs. When he straightened himself he was blushing. 

"Bye Bruce!" Dick sprinted off. 

-

Clark's hand in his was warm, but nice as he listened to him talk about practice and Hal's latest drama. They dropped hands about a block away from their building. Clark looked nervous as they turned the corner. "We've done exactly this, for the last how many years? They aren't going to know." 

"Your parents did!" Clark exclaimed. 

"My parents are nosy," he paused, "and annoying." 

That morning had been mortifying. He'd walked into the kitchen after kissing Clark goodbye as he headed back down to his room and his father had been leaning there waiting for him. He'd sat him down and spent the next half hour going over the importance of lube. He said other things, emotional things that Bruce should have been listening to, but he hadn't been able to focus past his dad putting a tube of lube on their kitchen counter and moving his fingers around. 

He hadn't told Clark about that yet. He was still trying to wipe the image from his mind. And if that failed maybe he'd tell him when it wasn't so fresh, and the idea of having sex wasn't as terrifying as that talk was. 

Everyone was convinced that him and Selina had had sex. He didn't blame them, neither of them had corrected anybody when they talked about the wild night they must have had at one of Stewart's parties. It had started with a game of spin the bottle, and seven minutes in heaven. He remembered how Clark had begged off his turn offering to go get everyone refills even when he wasn't drinking anything but water. Since they were dating, they got cajoled into using his parents' room when his spin landed on Selina. He remembered the loud click of the lock as he turned to look at Selina sitting on the bed, her eyes a little wide as she looked at him. He'd sat down next to her and as they sat there he realized that he didn't want to be there. When he said that Selina looked at him for a few seconds before asking him what he was doing for his English project. 

When they'd walked out an hour later they'd been greeted by cheers and catcalls and neither of them had stopped it. He'd told Clark on the walk home that he'd figured out what his project was going to be and he hadn’t had sex with her. Clark had seemed surprised, but hadn't asked why. He wondered what would have happened if he had. If Bruce had sat down and really thought about why he hadn't wanted to have sex with this amazing girl. 

"Oh. They want you to come to dinner sometime this week," he said when the doors opened on Clark's floor. 

"Dinner?" Clark said like he'd never eaten dinner with them before. 

"Your mom still has Bible study on Tuesdays right?" 

Clark nodded.

"So tomorrow then." He smiled as the doors shut on a dumbstruck Clark. 

He hadn't even walked in the door when his phone started chiming. 

**CK:** What should I wear?

**CK:** Are we going out?

**CK:** Is it going to be nice? 

**CK:** Is your mom cooking? 

**CK:** Do I need to prepare compliments beforehand?

**CK:** Why aren't you answering me? 

The last one came in as he put his bag down on his desk. 

**BW:** You had dinner up here last week. 

**CK:** We ate pizza. 

**BW:** You know my parents. 

**CK:** Well now they are my boyfriend's parents. It's different.

**BW:** I think you're overreacting.

He felt himself smiling as he read _ boyfriend. _He didn't know why he was so stuck on it. He'd been someone's boyfriend before. It hadn't felt like anything special then. Just another word that someone could use to describe him. But as he reread those words something unfurled in his chest and he couldn't stop smiling. Even through his parents trying to interrogate him during dinner and his calculus homework. He was still smiling, his face was a little sore, when his phone went off after his shower. 

**CK:** My mom's in a mood. No go tonight. 

**BW:** OK. I'll see you in the morning. 

He thought of Clark sitting by himself in his room with the pressure of his parents and for once he thought he had something that could help, could remind him he wasn't alone. 

**BW:** Singularly, Clark. 

Clark grinned idiotically at his phone and wondered how the hell two words could flip his stomach and make him feel a hundred times better all at once. He bit at his bottom lip and looked back at his door to make sure it was shut. He bounced his thumb over the dial button before he pressed it and shoved the phone into his ear. 

Bruce answered with an amused, "Yes?"

"I just wanted to say I love you." Clark sighed quietly, the words falling out so easily that he knew it should feel weird. But it didn't. It just felt nice. 

He expected Bruce to laugh and remind him that they were talking in code, but he didn't. "I love you too," Bruce said softly. 

Clark smiled again and heard a creak from down the hall, "My mom is coming to check in. I'll see you tomorrow?" 

"Yes, and wear something nice," he teased, laughing as Clark groaned when he hung up. 

He tossed the phone onto his bed and quickly busied himself in his Calculus book when there was a knock on the door and his mother stuck her head in. "How's the Calculus?" She asked with a small smile that almost made Clark forget how she reprimanded him that he should have already been finished not even an hour ago. 

"Almost done," he said with an easy shrug. 

"Good, make sure you get to bed soon," she told him. "I probably won't see you tomorrow. And your dad will be at work late. You'll be okay for dinner?"

"Yes ma'am." He nodded trying not to sound nervous at the thought of where he would be spending his evening. He could tell his mom, it wouldn't be weird, he had dinner with Bruce's family all of the time and she never bat an eye. But he didn't want to risk her offering to stay. He didn't want her to ruin it before he had a chance. 

She smiled again and he felt guilty for even thinking that as he forced a smile onto his own face. "Goodnight Honey, I'll say a special prayer for you." 

"Thanks, Ma," he said and his smile was genuine that time as she shut the door. It was small moments that made him wonder if maybe it would be okay if he told her-- but instead he turned back to his Calculus homework and wrote out his last problem. 

-

School the next day was mostly normal. Bruce didn't seem bothered at all by the impending dinner with his family but he seemed to enjoy watching Clark's internal struggle. He grinned when he dropped him off at the middle school down the street and told him he'd see him in a few hours. Clark could hardly concentrate on the essay he was proofing and ended up rushing all of his pointers at the end of the study session. 

He checked his watch and stopped at the flower shop on the way to the subway station and got a bouquet of daisies because he knew Mrs. Wayne loved them. She had a very close up painting of one hanging in the kitchen that she often stared at when she was lost in thought and it was the cause of many a burnt meal. He could feel his cheeks getting redder and redder every time an older woman got on the subway and smiled at him, all of them probably wondering where he was off too. He rushed out at his stop and unlocked the gate at the front of the building. He tapped his foot all the way up to his family's apartment and rushed inside. Both of his parents were gone just like they had promised so he set his daisies on the counter and walked into his room. He pulled off his jacket, yanked his shirt over his head and opened the closet. He blinked at all of the shirts and sweaters he had hanging up and his panic fully started to set in. He was just about to text Bruce and tell him he didn't think he could do it when there was a light knock on the window and he saw Bruce smirking at him. 

"You're not coming to dinner like that, are you?" He asked amused, his eyes trailing down Clark's chest. 

He flushed and pulled him into his room so that he could shut the window and close out the cold. "I can't do this," he breathed quickly feeling like he might fall apart at any moment. "What am I even supposed to wear? They've already seen all of my clothes."

"Then why are you freaking out?" Bruce asked stuck between genuine confusion and amusement. "Clark my parents love you. Just be comfortable." He ran his hands over Clark's shoulders and down his arms, leaving warmth behind as he went. "You look good in literally everything."

Clark flushed again. "But-"

Bruce kissed him, cutting him off before he could fall into a tangent about what color would make his dad see him as anything but the kid with straws up his nose. He melted, just like he had every time that Bruce had kissed him since Saturday, which was a total of seven times by Clark's count. After the first, there had been no hesitation. Each kiss was easy, like it had always been there just waiting for them to take it. Only now Clark wasn't wearing a shirt. There was a certain taboo to it that that sent an electric shock up his spine and he gasped slightly, lips just barely parted when Bruce kissed him again. But it was enough to change the feeling of the room and sway the tension in his arms as they locked around Bruce who had moved his hands down Clark's stomach. 

Clark pushed back on him, knowing his eyes must be wide and crazy. "Nope." He shook his head. "We aren't making out before we have dinner with your parents." 

"Why not?" Bruce asked, his eyes a little clouded and Clark bit his lip. 

"I'm not sitting across from your mom making small talk after your tongue has been in my mouth!" He half laughed. "I'll explode. And I'm not giving you that pleasure." 

"What about after dinner?"

"Let see how dinner goes." Clark sighed and looked back at his closet again. 

"You are an idiot." Bruce sighed like it was something sweet and kissed his cheek before he walked back to the window. "And where your grey turtle neck. Its makes your eyes look--" he he put his hand up by his eyes and made a popping noise, grinning when Clark smiled at him. "See you in a minute." 

He watched Bruce climb out of sight before he pulled out his grey sweater and pulled it on. Then he went to the bathroom and attempted to do something with his hair, but one stupid curl refused to stay off of his forehead. He glared but put on his glasses knowing that was as good as he was going to get. Then he marched back through the apartment, grabbed his daisies and headed upstairs. 

His heart hammered as he stood in front of the Wayne's door giving himself one more inspection before he swallowed and knocked. Martha answered the door and beamed at him when he offered a nervous hello and a smile. "T-these are for you," he told her and offered her the daisies as she led him in. 

She took them delighted. "You are too sweet," she said and kissed his cheek. "Thomas is in the den, he said he wanted a word before dinner. I'll go grab Bruce after I put these in water." She shooed him off toward the den. 

Clark swallowed hard and knocked on the den door. He had spoken to Thomas last week, the only thing that was different was that now he was Bruce's boyfriend. This was fine. Thomas called for him to come in and Clark pushed the door open. Thomas was sitting behind his large oak desk like some kind of movie. Clark left the door cracked but went to sit in the chair in front of the desk. He held his hands in his lap and tried not to fidget as Thomas fixed him with a very serious look. 

"So," he started. "You are dating my son." 

Clark nodded, his mouth dry. "Yes sir."

"He told me that he loves you," Thomas said. 

Clark was surprised but he nodded again. "I love him too, sir. Very much." 

Thomas softened then. And when he continued his voice was much lighter. "Bruce also told me that you haven't told your parents yet?" 

A spike of fear hitched in the back of Clark's throat and he didn't know what to say. It took him a minute to push past the knot that lodged itself into his throat for him to say, "You… you aren't going to tell them… are you sir?" 

"No!" Thomas said quickly, eyes widening at the misunderstanding. "No. Of course not, Clark. It's…" he stopped and started again. "I just wanted to say that, no matter what, you have a support system with us. Okay?" He smiled so genuinely that it hurt. "We've always loved you. And we couldn't be happier that Bruce chose you. Makes all of the formalities a lot less awkward." He stood up and waited for Clark to get the feeling back in his legs to follow suit. "I hope you aren't hungry, Martha went a little overboard," he apologized and when they made it back to the kitchen Clark's stomach didn't feel so tight. 

\---

Bruce pushed through the useless nerves as he waited for Clark on the bleachers. This was Clark, and he'd been on dates before. There was no reason to be nervous, but he was anyway. 

"Hey," Clark said, knocking his knee against his leg. "You okay?" 

He climbed to his feet with a nod. "You don't have a game Friday right?" 

"You know my schedule better than I do," Clark replied with a smile.

"Do you want to go on a date? With me?" he added after a second. 

Clark turned and looked at him. He looked over and Clark smiled. "Yes. Did you think I'd say no?" 

He shrugged and let Clark tug his arm down so he could hold his hand. "There was a possibility." 

"In what universe? You're my boyfriend, that's part of it right? Dates and all that." 

"Yes?" he replied. Bruce knew he'd been stupid, and each question that Clark asked made it all the more obvious why it had been stupid to be worried. 

"You're ridiculous," Clark said and smacked a kiss on the side of his head. "So what are we doing on our date? I've only been on one so there is a lot to live up to." 

"They have a Grey Ghost themed Escape House downtown."

"What? Why haven't we already gone?!" Clark asked. 

"There has been a lot going on lately," he replied. He had read about it the week before, but there had been other things on his mind. It wasn't until his mom gave him a coupon she'd found that he had been reminded, and realized that they hadn't been on a date yet. "Are you going to worry about what to wear?"

"No," Clark replied, but he could see his eyes shift away and he knew that he would worry about it now. They walked the rest of the way and like always Clark gave his hand a small squeeze before letting go as they turned down their street. 

-

"Someone saw you two yesterday," Dick said while they walked to the cafeteria.

"Saw who? Me and Clark? Doing what?"

"Holding hands. The part that makes me laugh though is that no one believes them, because it's you guys." 

"What does that mean?" 

"_ They've always been close," _Dick said in a deep voice. "I had to hide to keep from laughing. No one realizes you're dating now, cause that's just how you two are."

"Should we walk around making out?" he deadpanned. 

"I wouldn't mind that," Dick mumbled under his breath. 

"What was that?"

"Oh nothing," Dick said with a big smile. "I just wanted to let you know. People might find out soon."

"Okay," he replied.

Dick looked at him for a few seconds before he saw Clark and ran off to go ask him something. 

-

Clark made a big deal of them meeting down in the lobby. He was pretty sure that his parents would have found it more strange that he wasn't hurrying him out the door, but he didn't care enough to push it. It also gave him the opportunity to study Clark when he got off the elevator. He was wearing a simple black shirt and dark wash jeans. He knew that Clark had probably worried over what to wear for a while before picking something not much different than he would have worn anyway. 

"Hey," he offered. Clark smiled at him, looking nervous and excited. And Bruce felt those same emotions bubbling in his chest. They didn't hold hands as they walked down to the subway. He stared at a girl leaning on a guy by the door. She was holding onto him as he held onto the pole. Their fingers slid into each other as soon as the door opened. He wondered if Dick was right. Nothing had really changed. Should it have? Should they be more affectionate? Did Clark want that? He took his hand as they got off a few stops later and Clark didn't seem to mind, but they had between holding hands to and from school almost every day for the past week. 

He knew that Clark hadn't really dated before. He wanted their first date to go well, but when he thought about the dates that he'd been on with girls in the past he couldn't really think of what would make it different. 

The attendant running the room seemed concerned when it was just the two of them. 

"I think we'll manage," he said and glanced at Clark when he asked if they wanted to see if anyone else could join them. 

"He underestimates us," Clark said as they stepped into the room. He looked around at the room and felt a little giddy as he saw Grey Ghost's office. 

"Did you see what the record was?" he asked. Clark nodded and as the man came over the intercom giving them the backstory he grinned at Bruce. "We'll beat it."

They did. By nearly five minutes. They took their picture for the high score board and as the guy took the picture, Clark kissed his cheek. 

They got hot dogs at Clark's favorite cart and held hands as they walked through one of the used bookstores. Clark hadn't stopped smiling since they'd left the Escape Room and any worry he had about the date faded away. As long as Clark was happy, he was happy. 

-

His mom waved at them as they walked through the living room. Clark waved back, like he always did. He tugged him down the hall before he could get distracted talking to her. "You don't have to rip my arm off," Clark complained, but he was smiling so he knew he wasn't actually mad. 

"You took an hour to get water last week because you got distracted talking to her."

"I like talking to your mom," Clark said. "She's nice." The_ not like my mom _ sat silent between them. 

"Well you're stuck talking to me," he grumped. Clark smirked and pushed the door the rest of the way shut. He rolled his eyes and kissed Clark. He heard the surprised noise and smiled against his lips. 

He kissed Clark until he pulled Bruce away from the door and they sat down heavily on his bed. Clark's eyes were on him and he knew that he wanted this, but he could see the hesitation. Bruce pulled him in, pushed him back against the pillows and kissed him until he relaxed beneath his fingers. Clark's hands slid under the back of his shirt. Bruce pulled back and tugged his shirt over his head before he went back to the kiss. Clark's hands slid over the skin of his back, up and down, pulling when Bruce bit down on his lip. Clark pushed at his shoulder softly and Bruce leaned back. There was a look in his eye, one he recognized from playing. One that said he didn't know how it would go, but he was going to do it. Clark pushed him down to the mattress and slid over his lap. He swallowed as he watched him pull his shirt over his head. He didn't know why this felt so different. He'd seen Clark change before. He'd seen him shirtless countless times over the years, but having him there and being able to touch. It sent his heart rate skittering as Clark smiled down at him, blush coloring his cheeks before he leaned down and kissed him. 

Clark's mouth followed behind his hands, mapping his skin. Bruce held onto his hips as he sucked a mark high on his neck. 

A series of light knocks broke them apart. 

"Honey, it's getting late. Maybe you should walk Clark home." 

"O-okay mom," he called. His voice was high and Clark snickered against his collarbone. 

They listened to her footsteps move away. 

"OkAy mOm," Clark mimicked breaking his voice a few times. He pushed him and tossed his shirt at his face. 

He didn't think he could walk through the apartment so they went out the window. Clark was still giggling to himself as they walked down the stairs. Clark pushed open his window and climbed in. He leaned against the window pane. Clark turned back and stole another kiss. He held onto his neck, finger sliding through the short curls. He didn't think he'd ever get tired of this. He heard a loud creak and dropped to the ground. The fire escape made an odd groaning noise. 

"Clark? When did you get home?" Martha asked. Bruce held his breath. 

"A little while ago," he answered sounding so much more calm than Bruce knew he felt. Clark had always been good at that though. 

"Close the window. You're going to get sick," she said and with a creak of the floorboards she left Clark's room. 

He looked up and saw Clark look down. He popped up. "Bye," and smacked a kiss on his surprised face before jogging back up to his room

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I guess that now is the time to admit just how much I (Prubbs) love John Green. I give no fucks that I am 26 and my husband doesn't understand why I love teen books-- but they are so wholesome and painful. And John Green is just *chefs kiss*
> 
> So yeah, anytime there can be a "maybe okay can be our always," moment, it has to happen. It is too good. So singularly was born. 
> 
> We hope you enjoyed this chapter!! See you next week!


	6. Chapter 6

He woke up too early for a Saturday feeling hot and uncomfortable as he pulled himself out of the best dream he had ever had. Bruce had been in his lap grinding against him as he trailed kisses along his jaw. Clark had just found the courage to reach out and pull the button of his jeans when Bruce bit down hard on his neck and he woke up. He had no idea what time it was, but it was bright outside which only added to his misery. He reached for his phone and the number nine stood out boldly on the top of his screen before he groaned and opened it to Bruce's text thread. 

**CK: **I had the best dream about our date last night. But now I hate dream you a little bit. 

Bruce was a late sleeper so he was surprised when he got a text immediately back. 

**BW:** Well I hate real you. My mom spent half the morning trying to cover up the hickey you gave me last night. 

**CK: **No…

**BW:** [image]

He was mortified. He stared at the picture of the vivid and dark bite mark that he had left on Bruce's neck. It was too high to be hidden by a normal shirt but maybe if he wore a turtleneck or a scarf… 

**CK:** At least it's cold out?

**BW: **Ha. Ha. 

**BW: **Now tell me about this dream. What part of our date?

Clark swollowed, his face turning red which was stupid because no one was there to see him. Was he supposed to tell him? It was Bruce he told Bruce everything. But this was… different. And as weird as it was to admit, the rest of dating hadn't seemed like too much of a step outside of what they usually did. So telling Bruce about this was different. It would he a line they couldn't back track across-- but Clark didn't want to go backwards. 

**CK:** The… End part.

**BW:** So it was a good dream. 

**BW:** Did I leave you uncomfortable? 

It was the devil emoji that he added at the end of his text that made him do it. He snapped a picture of the tent that he was making of his sheets and sent it back, his heart hammering. He screwed his eyes shut and waited, blood racing and doing absolutely nothing to relieve the tension in his body. His phone buzzed. 

**BW:** Jesus fucking Christ, Clark. I'm in public with my mother. Warn me. 

**CK:** Did I make you uncomfortable? 

**BW: **Shut up. 

**BW:** I might have to pay you a visit later. You can tell me about this dream. 

**BW:** Get you back for the hickey you left in the most unhidable spot ever. 

There was a knock on his door and Clark sat upright, pulling his pillow into his lap as it opened to cover himself. If his father noticed he didn't say anything, the same bored expression on his face as always. "Alright son, your Ma and I are heading out."

Clark frowned. "Out?" He asked, "Where?"

His father raised an eyebrow at him. "We're going to help your grandfather move into his new retirement home. Remember we talked about it last month?" 

Right. Last month when he was still in the closet and pining for Bruce. So much had happened between then and now that it had completely slipped his mind. "Right, of course." He nodded. "When will you be back?"

"Sometime in the afternoon on Monday most likely." He sighed, making it apparent just how much he did not want to be going. "There is money on the counter for food and your mom left a casserole in the fridge. Maybe ask of Bruce wants to stay over so you aren't alone all weekend."

Clark blinked. His father had never told him to invite anyone to stay over ago, especially Bruce on a church night. "Yes sir." He nodded. His father offered him an almost smile and shut the door after him. Clark waited until he heard them walking out the front door and it locking behind him before he picked his phone back up and texted Bruce. 

**CK:** My parents just left for the weekend. They won't be back till Monday. 

**CK:** My Pa actually told me to ask you to stay over. 

**BW: **The world might be ending. 

**BW: **Guess I have to come give you that hickey sooner rather than later. 

-

He didn't know why he was nervous. But he felt like he did before the playoff game last year. Clark was usually pretty calm when it came to games, but Bruce had just gotten injured. He didn't have his right hand guy on the field and he had no idea which way the game would turn. So he'd sat in the locker room with his head in his hands trying to keep his stomach from turning in knots. 

Clark cleaned the entire apartment three times while he waited for Bruce to come over. It was already clean. But it gave him something to do with his hands until he could start setting up the living room for the syfy makeup show marathon they planned to watch. He was feeling a little better when Bruce walked in without bothering to knock and fixed him with a look. 

"How do you always make these so perfect?" Clark demanded standing in the middle of a mess of pillows and blankets that were nowhere near comfortable. Bruce snapped a picture of him before he took pity and came to help him. 

They didn't end up watching much of the show. Half way through the first episode Bruce had managed to get the details of Clark's dream out of him and then they were reenacting it. Bruce was straddling his lap with his shirt in a wad on the couch behind them, laughing when Clark pinched at his side, glasses fogged up and askew. Bruce pulled off his glasses and set them next to his shirt. "Just how blurry am I right now?"

"It's not so bad if you move about," he moved him back so that he was sitting almost straight and grinned. "Right there. You look amazing." Bruce went blurry again as he kissed him. 

Sleeping was even better than the kissing. Bruce tucked himself into Clark's chest making him feel like he was physically wrapped in a blanket of love. It made it difficult to get up the next morning and get himself ready for church. It was so tempting just to stay in bed and pretend that he'd overslept-- but his parents would know if he didn't go. 

"No, what are you doing?" Bruce whined when he kissed him awake.

"I've got to go to church," he muttered and kissed him again. "Go back to sleep."

"Don't go," Bruce told him, his hands pulling at the hair on the nape of his neck. "Stay here with me." 

He swallowed but managed to shake his head. "If you go back to bed you won't even notice that I'm gone," he promised and Bruce sighed before he agreed and rolled back over. 

Bruce hadn't moved at all when he got back. Clark smirked and pulled off his tie, kicking his shoes off before he pulled back the blankets and climbed in behind him. He nuzzled his cold nose between Bruce's bare shoulder. He hissed before he spun around and pinched him. 

"Fucking evil," he told him. "I thought you were supposed to be a sweet church going boy." 

"I am," Clark told him, stealing a kiss. "But I can be a little evil sometimes too." 

-

Clark felt almost shy on Monday morning when he knocked on Bruce's door and Martha gave him a very amused look when he saw just how high he had pulled his scarf. Bruce had made good on his promise a few times over, but fortunately only one of them was on his neck. She mentioned what a lovely color his scarf was as she let him in and went to go grab Bruce from the kitchen. He looked just as red when he came to meet him and rushed Clark out of the apartment as his parents laughter rang out behind them. 

He could feel people watching them all day, focusing on their hands and the mark on his neck. The whispers that he hadn't heard since he came out were suddenly all around them and it was actually kind of nice to be in it with someone this time. 

"So you guys are dating?" Hal asked at lunch seeming completely dumbfounded. 

"Yeah," Bruce said nonchalantly pulling the tomato out of his sandwich. 

"Like dating dating?"

"Is there another kind of dating?" Clark asked. 

"You know what I mean!" Hal actually looked embarrassed for a moment. "Like you guys kiss and hold hands and shit." Bruce pulled their hands up from where they had been holding them under the table and Clark grinned. "What a fucking month." Hal shook his head but smirked at the two of them. "Prince _ has _ to go for me now."

Clark sighed when he dropped Bruce's hand when they turned onto their street, knowing his parents were back sapping away the good mood that the weekend had left him in. He stopped to grab the mail when they got in their building so that he could put off going upstairs and stopped when he saw a large envelope addressed to him from Metropolis University. 

"What is it?" Bruce asked looking over his shoulder. 

Clark showed him the envelope, "It's not time for these to go out yet," he told him and handed it over. "Why would they send me a letter?" Bruce held it in front of him and looked up at Clark in a question. He nodded, too nervous to open it himself and waited at Bruce pulled out the top letter and silently read it over. He looked up at Clark when he finished. "Well?"

"You got in," he told him, the smile he had been holding back starting to creep up his cheeks. 

Clark's heart thumped in his chest. "What… how?" 

"They saw you play. They want to give you a _ full ride _, Clark."

"Oh my god." He breathed and then he laughed and he couldn't stop laughing. "Oh my god!" He said again and pulled Bruce off the ground with the force of his hug, spinning him. 

"Clark?" His heart stopped and he put Bruce back on the ground, looking up to see his mom stepping off the elevator. She looked confused and a little bewildered and he only had a moment to thank the lord that he hadn't kissed Bruce like he wanted to. 

"Ma, hi," he breathed and tried to calm down. "How was your trip?"

"Fine," she said shortly. "I just came to grab the mail…" She accepted the pile that Clark gave her and crossed her arms when she saw the large envelope still in Bruce's hands. "What's going on here?" 

His parents were less than thrilled. "Absolutely not," his father said without even discussing it. "You are going to Kansas. We already decided. Smaller classes mean more chance to stand out. You'll be a legacy there."

"But, Pa, it's a full ride," Clark told him and put the envelope in front of him. "They want to pay for everything just as long as I keep up my grades and stay on the team."

He shook his head. "Its too much pressure."

"It's the same amount of pressure I have now!"

"Don't you raise your voice at me young man," his father warned him, standing from where he had been sitting at the table making Clark officially feel small. "College is not the same as high school. There are pressures there that you have not had to face before and you don't need Lacrosse to get in the way of your studies." Clark started to argue again but his father held up a hand. "I won't talk about this any more tonight." 

Clark looked at his mother for help but her back as to them cleaning the already clean counter top. Clark bit his bottom lip and grabbed the envelope before he retreated to his room meaning to slam the door but he caught it last minute and shut it quietly behind him. 

\---

"Hi, Mrs. Kent," Bruce said when she opened the door. She smiled. He remembered when the smile that greeted him when he'd come ask if Clark could come play had been genuine. It didn't reach her eyes anymore. 

"Clark! Bruce is here," she called. She didn't ask him to come in. He kept his smile on his face. Clark tumbled out of the kitchen. 

"Hey," Clark breathed as he righted himself. Martha pat his shoulder with a concerted look. "What?" Clark mumbled, clearly asking what he was doing there, but not wanting to ask in front of his mom. 

"A couple friends and I were going to dinner. We were wondering if you could come." 

"Can I, Ma?" He looked over to Martha and she looked like she was going to say no, before she nodded and pat him on the shoulder again. 

"Yes, but don't stay out too late." 

"Okay. Let me grab my shoes," Clark said with a huge smile on his face. 

"Goodnight Mrs. Kent," he offered as Clark pushed him out the door. She hummed in response and shut the door. 

"She still hates me." 

"She doesn't hate you," Clark replied. "She dislikes you." 

He laughed as the elevator shut them in. 

"Why didn't you text me?" Clark asked. 

"I wanted to surprise you," he replied. "Well, we did." 

"Oh yes. These friends. What friends? You don't hang out with anyone but me outside of school." 

"That's not true," he replied, though he knew that it was the truth. With the exception of parties, where he didn't really talk to anyone, he didn't hang out with any of their school friends. Not anymore. 

"Clark!" His mom jumped in place as they stepped out of the elevator. "Congratulations!" She said and ran up to hug him tightly. "I'm so proud of you." Clark looked dumbstruck as he hugged her back. He swallowed before thanking her in a quiet voice. 

"Bruce told us it was a full ride. They don't offer many of those," Thomas said and rubbed Clark's hair. "We thought we'd take you out to celebrate." 

Clark looked over to him. "I didn't mean to. It just came out." 

"He was so excited for you. I haven't seen him that energetic in years," Martha cuffed his chin with her finger and made a face at him. 

"I'm starving, what are we still doing standing around?" Thomas asked and herded them down to the parking garage. 

"Are we taking the Phantom?" Clark whispered. 

"I don't know how your legs are going to fit," Martha chimed as she opened the doors to the vintage car. It was his dad's prized possession and the only one from his collection that had come with them from Gotham. 

"Maybe the boys can drive us around for once."

Clark spun around and looked at his dad. "What?!" 

Thomas smiled and tossed him the keys. "You'll take care of her." 

Clark's hands shook as he settled behind the steering wheel. He looked over at Bruce. "Is this real?" Bruce pinched him and got a bratty look, but it snapped Clark out of his bundle of nerves and he turned the car on. He talked Clark through the finer points of finagling the car out of its parking spot, before they got out onto the street. His parents kept up a steady stream of conversation from the back seat, his mom's legs curled up in his dad's lap. 

"Where are we going?" Clark asked. 

"Where ever you want to go," Thomas replied. "Bruce has been whining about that place with the squab for the last few weeks." 

"The place with the chocolate cake that made you cry," he offered Clark's confused look.

"I didn't cry. It was just really good." 

Clark totally did cry that time as he ate the cake after blowing out the single candle his mom pulled out of her purse. She'd said that no celebration was complete if you didn't blow out a candle. 

-

He leaned over the front railing of the bleachers as he talked to Clark. The coach was starting to shoot Clark looks and he knew that he'd be called in a few minutes, but he held onto him while he could. Clark looked up at him and smiled, though it was too crooked to be real. 

"You're going to be great," he said quietly. Though with the noise of the crowd he doubted anyone would have overheard anyway. "You'll show them why they gave you that scholarship and why you're the best Captain our school has ever had." Clark huffed out a laugh, dismissing his comment. "And after tonight you'll keep winning and be the best captain in the state. I can see it. I used the orb thing from Loth Lorien." 

"You're such a nerd," Clark said, but his smile was real when he looked up again. 

"Oh and if you win I'll-" The crowd erupted behind him as the band started the fight song. Clark had a high blush on his cheeks he looked back at him so he knew he'd heard him even if Bruce hadn't heard himself. He leaned forward and Clark smacked a kiss on his lips before pushing him back as he ran back to the coach. He looked one more time back at him, smiling again before he yelled at one of the other guys. 

"Are you going to wear his letterman?" Martha asked. 

"Is he going to Pin you?" Thomas said and pretended to swoon. He ignored them. They kept talking, planning his and Clark's imaginary 50s romance. It sounded suspiciously like the plot of Grease. 

"If you start singing, I'm moving," he said. His mom snorted and covered her mouth. 

"Uh well-a well-a well-a huh!" His dad sang and bumped him hard.

The game started and their attention was focused on that. He got too caught up in it. Yelling for passes and for Clark to just shoot already! It was an important game, they'd make the playoffs if they won. He knew Clark was nervous because they had lost horribly to the team earlier in the season, but the opposing captain and starting goalie had both gotten injured since then. Whereas Clark had only gotten better. He watched him run down the field and knew he wanted to see this for four more years.

"I don't want to go to Stanford," he said without looking away from Clark. "I don't want to be a doctor. I'm terrified of blood. I want to go to school here." He looked over to his parents. "I want to figure out what I want to do with my life, how _ I _want to help people." They just stared at him, then the crowd erupted and when he looked back to the field Clark's arms were up. They'd missed the goal, but his parents were cheering alongside him, and when they sat back down his dad just put his arm over his shoulder and shook him before pulling him in. 

They won, like he'd told Clark they would. He ran off the bleachers and onto the field. He didn't know what came over him, maybe it was the relief of his parents quietly accepting what he'd said, or the rush of the final minutes and the tension of the almost goal that would have tied the game in the dying seconds, but as soon as he saw Clark he rushed him. Jumping into his arms and kissing him as hard as he could. Clark caught him easily, which did weird things to his stomach. 

"I told you you'd win," he said. Clark set him down and brushed a strand of hair away from his face. 

"I love you," Clark said, and in that moment it was just them, the noise of the crowd faded away and he heard only those words, and the small inhale of breath before Clark kissed him. 

"Clark Joseph Kent?!" 

There was an almost suctioning sound as he pulled away from Bruce, like they were a cartoon and this was the really funny scene where his parents found them out. But this wasn't a cartoon and Clark's heart hammered out of his chest as he turned to see his parents watching him horrified. 

No one around them seemed to notice or care that they were walking through the middle of Clark's biggest nightmare. Bruce's hand was still on his elbow, his grip hollow enough that he knew it would be easily broken. It tightened the longer that they stood there. Silence enveloping them in the middle of the crowd as his father's shock wore off and he marched over to them, pulling his mother along after him. 

"Y-you came to my game," Clark said like they hadn't just seen him kiss Bruce. Because even if they were angry, they had never come to one of his games before and he wanted to be happy that they finally had. 

"We wanted to surprise you," his mother said numbly. 

"We wanted to see what you were throwing your life away for." His father corrected and then his eyes zeroed in on Bruce. "Now I see that Lacrosse was just an excuse to stay close by."

"It's not an excuse," Clark said. He took a step forward so that Bruce was just slightly behind him, Clark a wall between him and his parents. "I love Lacrosse. I'm good at it. You saw-" 

"I saw my son making a fool of himself in front of his peers. With a _ Wayne _ no less."

"I thought I heard your praises," Bruce's mother stepped up behind them and put a hand on Bruce's shoulder. Her smile was kind but her eyes were sharp as they looked between Clark's parents. "Always nice to see you Martha, Jonathan." She nodded and when she smiled at Clark it was genuine. "Wasn't Clark wonderful out there?"

"Did you know?" Clark's mother asked Mrs. Wayne. Her hands were balled into fists and trembling at her sides. "Did you know that your son and Clark were…"

"Dating?" Bruce's mother finished. "I did." She nodded. "And I think it's wonderful. You have a very lovely boy Martha-" 

"I _ did _," she hissed at her, her voice high, "I had a good Christian boy until he started spending time with your son and became a deviant!"

"_ My _ son?" Mrs. Wayne demanded stepping in front of them. "What the fuck did you just say about _ my _ son?" 

"Mom," Bruce said grabbing her arm. 

"Bruce didn't do anything, Ma," Clark said as people around them started to stop and see what was going on. "It was me. I'm me. He… he didn't make me this way it's just who I am." Both of his parents just stared at him, their silence saying more than words ever could. He saw his mother's hand reach for the cross around her neck like it could protect her from him. He stopped moving closer and his hands dropped to his sides as his mom looked anywhere but him. "Ma…"

"We are going home," his father said finally. "Get your things Clark."

"Martha, Jonathan." Thomas said jovially as he walked into the tense bubble of their group. "What a wonderful surprise." He smiled at them. "I don't think we've ever seen you at a game…" he trailed off seeming to catch onto the mood of the group. "What's going on?"

"You can get your things later." His father glared at Thomas. "Come on, Clark." Clark looked back at Bruce who was staring wide eyed at him. He shook his head. Clark looked back at his father and didn't move. "Clark!" His father snapped and he jumped. 

Thomas put a hand on Clark's shoulder. "Now, I'm sure we can come to some kind of understanding here."

Clark backed into Thomas as his father marched up to him, getting right in the elder Wayne's face. "You are not his father," he said menacing and so low that Clark doubted he would have heard if he wasn't between them. "Now take your hands off of my kid. He is coming home with me." He wrapped his hand around Clark's bicep and pulled him back with him but Thomas kept his hand tight in Clark's wrist. 

"He doesn't have to go anywhere with you, if he doesn't want to," Thomas said stiffly, the nice act gone. 

"He's seventeen and we are his parents," Clark's mother retorted and the officer that ran security for the games made his way over to them. 

"Any issue here folks?" He asked his hand resting on his bully stick. 

"This man seemed to be uncomfortable with the way I parent my son," Jonathan told the officer without taking his eyes off of Thomas. 

The officer looked uncomfortable when he recognized Thomas. "These your parents kid?" He asked Clark who nodded and opened his mouth to argue but the officer turned back to Mr. Wayne. "Thomas. You gotta let him go," he told him and pursed his lips. "Nothing you can do about it."

Thomas kept a steady gaze on his father before he looked back down at Clark and frowned. "Hold tight, okay?" He told him quietly. Then he looked back at his father. "If you do anything to this boy, I will call CPS so fast. "

"Don't you threaten me-"

"All right, all right." The officer stepped between them. "Let's get home, people," he told them and Thomas reluctantly dropped his grip. 

His father slammed the truck door after Clark climbed into the back seat and he watched him march around the front to the driver's seat. His mom wiped at her face and he could hear her small gasping breaths as she kept in her sobs. And the horrible thing about it all was the Clark actually felt bad. He felt bad that he made his mother cry and that his dad was angry. He felt bad that he had hurt them-- when they had hurt him more than anyone ever should. When he looked at Bruce's parents and how easily they accepted his mistakes and his faults and gave him their love, Clark knew that that was what a family was. Not this cultivated fear that his parents drilled into him with every extra pressure they piled on. 

He was shaking when they got back to their building and followed his parents into the elevator. They stood in front of him baring the already sealed doors until they opened and his father grabbed him by the back of the shirt and dragging him through their apartment door. He dropped Clark at the kitchen table and started pacing as Clark tried to get his bearings. He felt like he was drunk, or high, everything moving just a little too fast and sounding too loud as his shock started to wear off. 

"How long?" His father demanded. Clark blinked at him, momentarily confused by the dialogue in his own head. His father smacked his hand on the table when he didn't answer fast enough and Clark jumped. "How long have you… with that boy…" 

Clark stopped shaking but his mouth was dry. He tried to open his mouth but it was like trying to peel apart tape that had folded in on itself, the glue leaving strings that had him sewn together. His father shook his head. "I knew there was something going on." He laughed humorlessly as he went back to pacing. "Finding you coming up the fire escape. But I thought you boys were just being boys. Your grades hadn't suffered. And then there was that nice Lane girl-- but here I find you have been doing those unholy acts in my own house all this time."

"I haven't." Clark shook his head. It was a small sound but he had managed it all the same. 

"Excuse me?"

Clark fixed his father with a glare and clenched his jaw. "I haven't been with Bruce until a few weeks ago because you've forced me to repress who I am my whole life!" He snapped. As soon as he got it out, he wanted to take it back. The way that his father was looking at him was like a bucket of ice down the back of his shirt. But Clark held his gaze, unblinking until he turned on his heel and marched out of the room. 

He felt helpless. Like he knew he needed to say something but he had no idea what and to whom. His mother had taken a seat at the table and was crying softly into her hands. He put a hand on her shoulder but she swatted it away. Clark winced when he heard a thump from the other room but ignored it. 

"Ma, please talk to me," he begged her. "Don't cry."

She moved her hands and looked at him, really looked at him. In that soft eyed way you examine a baby. She reached out and put her hand on his cheek, her lip still trembling. "I just don't understand," she told him. "Where did we go wrong?"

He pulled her hand off of his cheek and stepped away from the table. 

"I'm not _ wrong, _" he told her, making his voice as steely as he dared. "I'm gay. And I have been gay my entire life. Nothing changed from who I was five years ago from who I am now, you just didn't know." There was a loud sound from his bedroom followed by steady thumps. He rushed to the door and found his dad hammering the window shut. "Pa, no-- what are you doing?" He demanded as his father hit another nail in place. 

"You won't be going in or out this window any time soon," his father told him. 

"W-what if there is a fire?" 

"Then that's God's will."

"Pa-"

"It won't be forever," his mother said from behind him. Her eyes were soft again, like she was afraid to push him too hard. "Just until we can fix this. Then we can-

"No!" Clark shouted and for once they both stopped. "You _ can't _fix me. This is who I am. You can lock me up and take me to church every day-- but I will still be gay every single day. And I will still love Bruce." His mother started trembling again and his dad went back to hammering. She started muttering and Clark let out a sigh of frustration. "Ma."

"Leviticus 18:22." 

"Ma-"

"- you will not lie with a male as with a woman: it is an _ abomination." _

"Ma, please."

"First Corinthians 6:9-10!"

"If you would just listen to me-"

"-neither the sexually immoral, nor idolaters, nor adulterers, nor men who practice _ homosexuality _, nor thieves, nor the greedy, nor drunkards, nor revilers, nor swindlers will inherit the kingdom of God."

"Let the one among you who is without sin be the first to cast a stone. Jesus Chirst," he said back to her. 

She blinked but persisted. "Jude 7! Just as Sodom and Gomorrah and the surrounding cities, which likewise indulged in _ sexual immorality- _"

"_ Blessed _ are the merciful, for they will be shown mercy. Jesus!" His mother swallowed and he jumped on the opportunity continue. "Above all, love each other deeply, because _ love _ covers a multitude of sins. Peter 4:8. I know the verses Ma. I know what the bible says and I know that _ my _ God made me this way for a reason." Martha let out a sob and Clark felt a burn in the back of his throat. "I am not broken. I am the man I am supposed to be. And Jesus is my savior Momma, not you-"

The slap was more shocking than painful. He'd been hit much harder by guys on the field-- but none of those hits had ever hurt this bad. He held his stinging cheek and watched his mother crumble before she ran off down the hallway and the hammering finally stopped. He looked back at his father but he just packed his tools away and followed his mother out, leaving Clark to shatter to pieces on his own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, so this is a pretty intense chapter. 
> 
> I think it is important to be said that this chapter doesn't reflect any personal views we have in religion. While I have had a few experiences of religious basis homophobia in my life, they have fortunately never hit this extreme. Unfortunately, I do know people who have experience this extreme amount of prejudice as well. 
> 
> But the amount if good and love that I have seen is much higher. 
> 
> It sucks that these are still issues that people have, but the more advanced society becomes, the more new hate and fear is spread into the world. All we can do is crowd around eachother and become a sponge for that hate, soak it up and clean it off and let it wash away--
> 
> I've been up since 4am and I'm starting to sound like a crazy person. I guess the point is, don't hate people and love eachother? Or something?


	7. Chapter 7

Bruce leaned against the wall outside Clark's first class on Monday morning. He wanted to wait at the front gate and be the first face that he saw when his parents dropped him off. He'd heard them yelling about it the night before. About how they didn't want him going to school, but how they knew he had to. He didn't want to risk them taking Clark away if they saw him, so he waited inside. 

He closed his eyes as the other students walked by. Clark's hand resting on the glass of his window and the hollow look in his eyes was burned into his mind. He'd waited until he was sure that the Kents were asleep. He stared at the bent and crooked heads of the nails blocking his way, locking Clark in. A short series of taps was all it took to wake him. Bruce wondered if he'd actually been sleeping. As soon as he'd crossed the room he'd put his hand up and rested his head against the glass. Bruce put his hand over his and Clark's smile faltered before his eyes flicked up to him. He held his phone up and tilted his head. Clark shook his head. He nodded and slipped it back into his pocket. He had thought so, they wouldn't let him keep it. _ 'I love you' _, he had whispered, the sound whisked away by the wind and the sounds of the city. Clark's eyes closed and Bruce watched as he fell apart, tears staining his cheeks as he cried, unable to do anything but watch. 

When he'd gotten back to his room, his mom was sitting on his bed. He folded into her arms and asked her why. With each question he asked his voice trembled and her arms tightened around him. She didn't have answers for him. But she reminded him that Clark had people that loved him and that he would be okay. 

The warning bell sounded and he opened his eyes. The students in the hall had a different feel about them now, but he didn't move. He couldn't, not until he saw Clark. The final bell rang and he was left alone in the hall. 

He waited outside the next two. It wasn't until lunch that he got an answer on where Clark was. Lois caught his arm as soon as he'd walked in the cafeteria. 

"I need to talk to you," she said. She looked over to Dick. 

"I'll get us our lunches," Dick said and smiled before turning with a frown as he headed to the lines. She'd pulled him over to a small corner when they stepped out into the hall. 

"You know that Clark's parents found out that he was..?" she asked, her fingers brushed over her collar as she trailed off. 

"I was there," he offered, remembering the hate he'd seen in their eyes, and Clark's single step back away from Jonathan. She looked up at him, her eyes displaying so much emotion. She coughed slightly and her shoulders shifted back. 

"My mom heard that they were taking him to see a pastor out in Maple Valley today." That was a three hour drive, which explained his absence. "Our pastor recommended him." She frowned, like that meant something more to her than it did him. She looked like she wanted to say something more, but she hesitated, her fingers sliding over something under her shirt. She dropped her hand and offered him a stiff smile. "I just wanted you to know why he wasn't at school today."

The rest of the day he thought about Clark stuck in the car with his parents for the entire day, and all the things he wished that he could tell him. He knew that he wasn't there that day. Dick commented on it as they walked together to the library. He didn't know what to tell him. He didn't really want to talk about the weekend, or his fear for Clark. So he let Dick talk and let him drag him out of his head.

Dinner with his parents was quiet. He excused himself and headed back to his room. He left his window open even though he knew that Clark wouldn't be coming up. His mom stopped in the doorway. She watched him for a few minutes before crossing the room and kissing the top of his head. "I love you," she said. He nodded and gave her a smile. 

**BW:** Can I talk to you?

His phone was quiet for a while before he heard it chime. 

"I'm going down to The Corner," he told his dad. 

"Text me when you get there," he replied. He nodded and grabbed his jacket on the way out. 

When he walked in he saw Pam first. She was sitting at a table near the door with a book, she offered him a smile. Harley waved and he walked over. She was in a nice dress and he felt bad. 

"I'm sorry," he offered. 

"Don't be," she hugged him before she pulled him down into the chair next to her. "You haven't messaged me in a while."

"Clark's parents found out we're together." 

Harley's breath sucked in. She moved to reach out, but stopped herself. "Is he okay?" 

"I think so?" He looked out at the half empty Cafe. When he looked back Harley was frowning. "How do I-" he swallowed. "I want to-" He wanted so much. He wanted to rescue him, to be his knight in shining armor. He wanted Clark to be happy. Harley seemed to understand that. They spent the rest of the evening talking. His dad texted him to check on him and Bruce told him he was almost done with Harley. He got a thumbs up as a response. 

"Do you mind if I talk to your father about some of the things you've told me?" He shook his head. They drove him home. Pam talked about some of the new plants she'd gotten in her store. "Remember what I said," Harley said when hesitated getting out of the car.

"I will," he promised. He gave her a smile and headed in. 

-

The next morning he waited again. Before the warning bell even went off he saw Clark's head peek over the top of a freshman. Clark's eyes brightened when he saw him and he bumped past her. He apologized the second before they collided in a hard hug. 

"I'm so sorry," he whispered over and over. Clark was quiet, his fingers digging into his back like he wanted to climb inside of him and hide. He pulled them over to the wall when someone bumped into them. "I love you." Clark's smile was worth the lecture he got from his teacher for being five minutes late. It would be worth every lecture he got that day, because he knew he was going to spend every second he could with Clark. 

Bruce waited for him outside of every class that day and his heart jumped every single time. It had only been three days since he had seen him, but it felt like forever. And they had been on such a high right before his parents showed up that he could feel it burning in his palms everytime they held hands. 

They skipped out on lunch. Clark pulled Bruce out to the field and under the bleachers. They mostly just kissed for a while, pouring everything they hadn't been able to say over the weekend into it until Clark pulled away and just looked at him for a while. Taking in as much of Bruce as he could until he would be gone from him again. 

"Where were you yesterday?" Bruce asked finally. The whistle from the cheer squad on the field leaking through the gaps in the bleachers. 

Clark frowned and scratched at the back of his neck. "My parents took me to see a pastor out in Maple Valley." Bruce nodded like he knew as much already so he continued. "They mostly had me sit in the chapel as they talked in his office for a while and then when they came out they had the card for some therapist in Metropolis that they want me to talk to. Jack Napier?" He offered but Bruce shook his head the name unfamiliar. "I have my first appointment with him on Saturday." His chest burned in anger and hurt as he remembered the silent drive. Three hours there and three hours back in complete silence. "They wouldn't even talk to me."

Bruce squeezed his hand and Clark shook his head. "You know, she hit me? My mom. She slapped me after the game cause I refused to let her exorcise the gay out of me."

"Clark…"

"It's fine," he told him, squeezing his hand back. He kept his eyes on the ground between them, picking at a patch of grass. "It didn't even hurt. It's just…" he pulled his eyes up and sighed. "I've spent my entire life trying to please them and I've done everything they've asked. The only thing I have ever wanted is you. And I don't care anymore if they can't deal with that. I love you. And I'm not going to hide that anymore." 

Bruce kissed him and the lunch bell rang them into passing period. "We should head to class," he muttered into Clark's lips when he wouldn't let him pull back. 

Clark shook his head. "I still have two days worth of kissing I need to get caught up on," he told him. Bruce crawled into his lap. 

His father was waiting outside the school when it let out, glaring at his hand in Bruce's as they walked out the doors. Bruce tried to pull his hand away but Clark held on tight. 

"You're going to make him mad," Bruce warned him under his breath. 

"He's already mad." Clark shrugged. "And if this is the only time I get to see you, I'm making the most of it." He stopped and tugged on Bruce's arm so he turned back into him. He kissed him there, forcing people to walk around them but he didn't care. "I love you," he told him when they pulled apart and then kissed him quickly again when he saw his father get out of the car. "I'll see you tomorrow?" Bruce nodded and Clark went to meet his father before he could make a scene. 

-

The rest of the week went about the same. He would see Bruce at school and spend as much time with him as he possibly could and then his father would pick him up. He'd thought that he would at least get a little extra time when he had Lacrosse practice, but his father or his mother just sat in the bleachers and watched until he was finished. 

They sat at the very front of the stands on Friday for their first playoff game, sitting silently as the rest of the crowd cheered around them. He tried to ignore them but it was hard with their disapproval being so visible. He tried to shake it, but he took a bad hit halfway through the game that had him benched. He hoped like hell that the Metropolis scouts weren't there, the very last thing he needed was for his scholarship to be taken away before he had a chance to get out of his parent's house. They won, but it was a close game and he barely glimpsed the Waynes approaching before his parents pulled him away and brought him back to the prison of their apartment. 

He stayed in bed for most of Saturday morning, not seeing any point to get up until his mom was dragging him off to the therapist. She had dressed up like it was Sunday morning but Clark had just pulled on jeans and a sweater that his mother kept fussing with until the door opened and they called him in by himself. 

Jack Napier was a tall, pale man with a crooked nose and a crazy smile. He seemed pleasant enough as he shook Clark's hand and asked him to take a seat across from him. He did, wiping his palms on his pants as he looked around at all the certificates and religious verses on his walls before he looked back. Jack was examining him as he looked around and Clark instantly felt uncomfortable. 

"So…" Clark started. "Am I supposed to say something?"

"When you are ready," Jack confirmed opening the notebook in front of him. "This is your first time to therapy?" 

"Yes sir."

He smiled at that. "Well you seem like a very polite young man. Your parents must be very proud of you."

Clark swallowed. "They used to be, sir."

"Ah," he nodded, his face full of understanding. "Before your indiscretion." 

That stung. Clark frowned at him. "My indiscretion, sir?"

"Clark," Jack sighed, leaning forward in his chair. "Can I call you that?" Clark shrugged. "You seem like a smart kid. And after speaking with your mother, I know you are a good Christian boy. So I'm not going to sit here and quote the bible at you. I know that you know all of that already. We live in a modern world with all kinds of perversions. And it's easy to see those perversions and think they are appealing. But that's just what they want."

"They?"

"The demons, Clark," Jack told him very seriously. "The devil has sent his henchmen to walk this earth and reach out to boys like you. Good boys that he can pervert and drag down with him. And I know this must sound insane to you, Clark. But that's exactly what they want." 

It did sound crazy. He spent the entire session listening the Jack tell him about the war between Heaven and Hell and how Homosexuality was just another plague working towards their destruction. And when the hour was done he really just wanted to call Bruce and tell him how messed up it all was. 

"So what do you say, Clark?" Jack asked back to his smiling self. "Are you ready to begin treatment?"

He sat there with his mouth open for a moment wondering how he expected him to respond. "No," Clark told him and stood up. "I'm gay not infected."

Jack sighed and shook his head. "Well, I'm really sorry to hear that, Clark," he told him and stood leading him to the door. "We'll have to try something new on Tuesday." 

-

Bruce and Dick listened intently as he told them all about his first session Monday at lunch. They looked about as lost as he was as he explained all of the crazy things that Jack Napier had said to him. 

"What do you think he meant by trying something new?" Dick asked when he finally finished.

Clark shrugged. "I don't know. But it can't be anything that bad right? He's a doctor." Bruce didn't say anything, he just picked at his fries and put his hand on Clark's knee. Clark tucked his hand over his and gave it a squeeze. "It'll be fine," he assured him under his breath and kissed his cheek. "I promise." 

-

The office looked completely different when he walked in the next day. Jack had rearranged the furniture so that all of the chairs were facing a TV on the right wall of the room. The screen was glowing but dark so he knew it wouldn't be dark soon.

"Take a seat Clark." 

He took a seat at the chair indicated and watched as Jack plugged something in and hit a button on the remote that went to a generic start screen. Jack rolled up his sleeves and leaned against his desk. 

"We are going to watch a video today," he said pleasantly.

"That's it?" Clark asked. 

"That's it." Jack smiled and hit play. It was a strange video. Like every Hallmark movie ever made but churchier if that was a thing. It was fine, but then it cut to something completely different, a scene that looked like it was cut out of a soft core gay porn of two men making out. He jumped at the contrast and looked over to Jack but he shook his head. 

"Please watch the video, Clark," he said politely. 

Something twisted in his gut but he turned back to the screen and watched the video as it switched back to the Hallmark movie. It continued to play out that way, jumping back and forward from the religious movie to the uncomfortably affectionate one and the third time it switched he felt something hot press against his arm. He jumped and yanked his arm away. Looking down at the long red welt that was on his skin. Jack put a firm hand on his shoulder holding him down in the chair and Clark saw the coil he had plugged in before the movie started in his hand, it was red hot. "Please keep watching the movie, Clark." 

"No." He was breathing hard and he wanted to leave. Go show his mom what the man had just done to him. He tried to get up but Jack held him down and paused the movie. 

He moved to stand in front of him and squatted down like he was talking to a child. "I know this is scary," he told him sympathetically. "Your parents were skeptical too, but I've got the results that proves this version of therapy works." Clark felt like his stomach had been tied in a knot. 

"M-my parents agreed to this?" He asked, his mouth feeling dry. 

"They just want what is best for you," Jack said softly and pat his leg. "The more we do this. The less reaction you will have when the movie switches over. Once you don't react, we can stop. Okay?" He didn't wait for him to answer. He stood up. Put his hand back on Clark's shoulder and pressed play again. 

-

His mother didn't say anything about the blistering welts on his arm on the ride home and let Clark go straight to his room without a word. He stared at the nails in his window. His father had been so mad he didn't hit them all the way down. He stared at them until his mother called that it was time for dinner. His parents asked his questions about the session. Seeming genuinely interested when he told them what happened and not one bit concerned. He told them that he was going to bed right after and his mother pat his back in understanding saying how exhausted he must be after a big day. 

Clark broke two pairs of scissors and a ruler pulling the nails out of his window. The last nail he managed to wedge out with a drinking glass after he chipped it a few times. He made sure that he could still put the nails back in the holes. But they slid back out easily. And once he was sure that his mom had checked on him for the last time that night he wedged open the window and slipped out. 

Bruce wasn't in his room when he climbed up, but the window was cracked open. He pulled at it, wincing when the raw skin on his arm scraped the wood and climbed in. He closed the window after him and locked it, staring at it for a minute before he walked out of the room. He heard sounds from both the kitchen and the living room so he headed straight. He walked straight into Thomas before he could get anywhere, both of them stumbling in the doorway of his office as Thomas righted them and then smiled in surprise. 

"Clark? What are you--" but the smile disappeared when he saw the look on his face and the way he was holding his arm. "What happened?"

-

"Martha, can you come in here for a second?" 

His mom looked up and she pat his shoulder as she passed him. He went back to rolling the dough. He heard his mom's voice get loud and looked over to the hall. Then she stepped out, her eyes on fire like he'd only seen once before. 

"Clark is in your father's office, baby." He stood there staring at her for a second, dough drooping between his hands. "Why don't you go? I think he might need you." She stopped him and kissed his cheek before letting him pass. "Jim? Sorry for calling so late," his mom's voice faded as he walked out of the room. 

Clark was sitting in one of his father's chairs. He looked at his dad who was on his phone and then saw the arm Clark was holding out in front of him. 

"Clark?" he said and took a few shaky steps. Clark turned and he saw him try to smile, but it wobbled and he hugged him, careful not to touch his arm. "Dad?" 

Thomas looked over. "Don't worry, I'm not letting him go with them this time." Thomas frowned. "I shouldn't have the first time." 

"Jim said to take pictures, but you can treat him." His mom walked back in. 

His dad handed her his phone. "Already did." His dad moved him to the side and kneeled down in front of Clark. "This shouldn't hurt, but let me know if it does." He held Clark's hand as his dad applied cream and covered each of the fourteen marks that ran up his arm. 

Bruce held Clark's hand while they sat in the living room and his parents made phone calls. A young man in a suit at least a size too big for him, with some serious bed head stepped in and his mom immediately started asking questions. The man smiled at them while his mom asked his dad a question, only half of his face moved. Clark muffled a yawn. He didn't know what to say, how to make any of this better, so he just held onto Clark and tried not to think too much about how familiar all of the people walking around talking above his head felt. Clark leaned his head on his shoulder. 

He heard Harley's voice and sat up. She waved and greeted his parents, introducing them to the woman she'd brought with her. She slipped away and sat on the coffee table in front of them. 

"Hi Clark. I'm Harley. It's nice to finally meet you." 

"Yeah," Clark offered. "You're not what I expected?" 

Harley laughed and brushed her hair off her shoulder. "My wife is a health nut. It's kept me youthful." She grinned. "Bruce was also one of my first patients after I graduated." She poked his knee and looked at him. "You doing okay?"

"What?" he looked at her then Clark. "Yeah I'm-" Harley poked his knee again. "It's all too familiar," he admitted. "But I'll be okay."

"Good. And how about you?" Clark shrugged. "You're spreading your bad habits," Harley said with a smile and another poke to Bruce's knee. Clark looked over to him. "The shrugging." He shrugged and Clark shrugged back at him. "It's not really an answer." 

"Oh." Clark looked back at Harley. "I'm a little freaked out. And tired." Bruce rubbed the back of his hand. 

"Okay. We'll get this finished and let you get some sleep." Harley waved over to the group standing across the corner. "Clark, this is my friend Mina. Do you mind answering some questions?" 

"We can talk in private," Mina offered as she sat down in his dad's recliner. Harley had moved over to sit next to Bruce on the couch. 

"It's okay. I'm going to tell him anyway." Clark's hand tightened around his as she asked the first question. By the end of it Bruce couldn't look away from the gauze on Clark's arms. 

"Why don't you boys go to Bruce's room?" Thomas asked.

"Try and get some sleep," his mom said and hugged Clark tightly before kissing Bruce's cheek and nudging them down the hall. 

-

According to his mom they were playing hooky. In reality they were waiting for the final word from Mina. Dick texted him at lunch and Bruce handed Clark his phone and grabbed his laptop and the three of them talked like that for most of the afternoon, only pausing for a test in Dick's Latin class and a phone call from Mina. 

"First things first. Here's your key." Martha pulled it off her own keyring. "I'll find my spare. It's in Thomas's office somewhere." Clark took the key. "They said since we're registered and you graduate in a few weeks they don't see a problem letting you stay with us until your birthday. We're fine with however long you need to stay after that too, so you don't worry. We will have a couple rules."

Clark nodded and sat up. 

"This first one is a request, but we think it would be a good idea. We'd like you to speak with someone. You met Harley, she said that she'd be happy to see you, or if you'd like to speak with someone else we can help you look."

"Har-Harley's fine." Clark looked over at Bruce. He tried to give his most reassuring smile.

"This next one is for both of you. No more sneaking out. If you want to go somewhere tell us." He nodded. He'd only ever snuck out to see Clark in the first place. "Your window will stay locked now. Okay?" He nodded again. "You'll sleep in your own bedrooms on school nights." She waited until they nodded. He saw Clark's face flush as he agreed. 

She leaned forward with a serious look on her face, but he could see the smile peeking out at the corners. "And you have to eat my food." 

"I don't know if I can do that," Clark said with a smirk. His mom laughed and fell back against the chair like she'd been shot. 

"Oh Clark. You wound me." She laughed and got up. "Thomas is down adding you to our plan. I know being without your phone has been rough. Bruce has been staring at his like a lost puppy all weekend. Mina will be by in an hour. And then you and Thomas can go pick up some of your things." 

Mina looked different when she got there, just a few minutes after his dad had gotten back. She looked like she was ready for war. Bruce was pretty sure it would only be Martha there, but he couldn't help the nerves. He tried not to look stressed as the three of them headed downstairs. 

Clark was quiet when he got back and they spent the rest of the evening putting his things away in the guest bedroom. 

"Your bed is more comfortable than mine," Bruce grumped while Clark refolded the shirts he'd put away. They hadn't been right apparently. "How is that fair?" 

"I'm the favorite son," Clark said with a teasing grin. 

"You're my favorite," he said. Clark snorted and set the shirt down. "Shut up. It sounded nice in my head." Clark crawled onto the bed and laid down next to him. 

"You're my favorite too," Clark replied. 

Bruce turned to look at him. "You're amazing," he told him.

Clark watched his own hand in Bruce's shirt as it clenched tight, the gauze still scratching up his arm right in his line of sight. Amazing? He would have believed that he could be just a few days before. But now he just felt defective, unwanted, and a little broken. 

"You sure you still want me?" He asked in a small voice and made sure it was apparent in his face that he was teasing when he looked up at him. "Not that you really have a choice. You're kind of stuck with me now. Your parents won't ever let me leave."

"I would have planned a heist sooner or later," Bruce reassured him. The words were light but his expression was serious as he brushed the stray hair out of his face and straightened his glasses. "I wish it didn't get to this point… but I'm glad you are here. And…" he hesitated and pulled Clark closer. "I won't let anything like that happen to you ever again." 

Clark sighed and pressed his face into Bruce's neck. "I know." Bruce turned and captured his mouth with his and Clark felt truly content for the first time. They kissed for a minute but when Bruce's tongue traced his bottom lip. Clark's pulse spiked and his arm burned. He shoved himself up and to the edge of the bed faster than he thought possible. He stared at the floor, hand clenched at his chest as he struggled to get his breathing straight. He felt Bruce put a hand on his shoulder and he jumped again, turning to look at Bruce was watching him bewildered. 

"I-I'm sorry," he whispered not knowing what was wrong with him. "I don't know why I-"

"It's okay," Bruce told him softly and held out his hand to him. Clark looked at it for a moment before he took it and let Bruce pull him back. He laid down feeling cold and exhausted and Bruce rubbed his back and reminded him that he was okay and he was safe until Martha found them and took over while she sent Bruce to get ready for bed. 

-

Everyone was talking about him at school again, only this time it wasn't so pleasant. While everyone had accepted his sexuality so easily-- they couldn't pass up the Kent family scandal the same way. He could only assume that it had leaked from Lois seeing as she had most likely seen his parents at church. Clark had missed more school than Bruce seeing as he had had a few court dates and meetings with social workers and when he came back the Monday after everything happened, everyone was watching him. 

The wounds on his arm had scabbed over but Thomas had wrapped them away anyway. He said it was to keep him from scratching at it, but he knew he was giving Clark a little more time before he had to look at what his parents had done to him. He would always have the scars. And while he was healed for the most part, the mental stress it had put him through was just starting. He was jumpy. Any time anyone touched his shoulder he panicked and pulled away. But he was happy to see that the stress caused by Bruce's kiss was a one time thing.

He kissed Bruce any chance that he got, anywhere they were, whoever was around them. Because he made Clark feel better. Like a drug that was made just for him.

He felt better after Lacrosse practice, particularly with Bruce and Dick obnoxiously screaming for him from the stands. He played a little more aggressively than usual but no one paid it any mind with the finals coming up in a week. He held Bruce's hand all the way back to the Waynes' apartment and it felt good knowing that he didn't have to let go. 

-

Thomas sat with him in the waiting room of Harley's office. Clark hadn't wanted to go alone and Thomas had offered before he could even ask. It felt strange having the support of a parental figure there with him. A comforting presence that didn't tell him to stop twitching. He put a hand over Clark's when he picked at the bandage over his scars and gave him a sympathetic look. So he sat back in his chair and waited until Harley stuck her head out and called them in. 

Thomas followed him into the office and took the seat next to Clark as Harley settled into her own chair. The chairs in her office were situated much closer and much more comfortable than the ones in Jack's office. He was overwhelmed for a moment by how different all of this was. Harley gave him a moment to take it all in before she smiled at him, notebook completely closed on her lap. 

"How are you, Clark?" 

He blinked, for some reason he hadn't expected that. He looked over at Thomas for permission and his eyes got all soft as he told him, "It's all you. I'm just here for support." 

Clark took a deep breath through his nose and said, "I'm… fine." 

Harley raised an eyebrow. "Fine?" She asked. Clark shrugged. She made a buzzer noise. "This is a no shrugging zone. It's also a no lying zone. So let me ask you again." She fixed him with her steady gaze and asked a little softer, "How are you, Clark?"

"I… don't know how to answer that?" He said honestly and Harley seemed to accept this answer. So he continued, "Am I supposed to know?"

She shook her head. "It's normal not to. Especially after going through a trauma." She let that sit between them for a moment and watched the way Clark's face fell. "Have you thought about what you have gone through as a trauma?" 

"No," Clark admitted. 

"Have you thought much about it?" 

"No," he answered again shaking his head. "I don't want to." 

"That's understandable," Harley told him and he didn't know why it made him feel better for her to validate that. "But I to encourage you to start. We are going to look further into that in our sessions together. We won't go any further than you want. And I promise that I will never, ever lay a hand on you. Okay?" 

Clark felt his lip tremble and he tried to clamp it down by biting on the inside of his cheek. "What are you feeling right now, Clark?" She asked softly. 

"I feel overwhelmed," he told her without hesitation. 

Harley sat back in her chair and nodded. "Let's talk about that." 

-

Dinner was quiet. They grabbed pizza on the way back to the apartment and neither Clark or Thomas had said a word. They spoke around him at the table, no one pushing him to say anything. But when Bruce pushed his mushrooms onto Clark's plate a little warmth sprouted in his chest. And he loved him so much for being able to give that to him so easily. 

After dinner, Martha and Thomas disappeared to his study and Bruce let Clark pull him back to his room. He shut the door quietly sat on his bed before he fell back on it and Bruce sat carefully next to him. 

"Is therapy supposed to make you feel worse before you feel better?" He asked finally. 

Bruce pulled at his arm until it uncovered his face and he had to look at him. "Yes," he told him bluntly and smirked when Clark groaned. "But it gets better," he promised and laid down next to him. "Are you okay?"

Clark nodded and turned, tucking his arm under his head. "It felt weird. And I feel kind of bad 'cause I wasn't very nice about my parents. And it's know its dumb to care that I was mean about people who hurt me… but they are my parents. And your Dad was there and it's so different from talking to you about all of this." He sighed. 

"You know, you don't have to be kind about them, just because they are your parents," Bruce told him, eyes all serious in ultimate Bruce fashion. "They hurt you. Repeatedly. And you don't have to forgive them for that if you don't want to."

"I know," Clark whispered back, and he knew that Bruce was right. Clark wasn't sure that he ever actually wanted to forgive his parents, even though everything in him told Clark that he needed to try. Bruce just watched him, silently accepting his frustration. "Will you come with me next time?"

Bruce blinked at him. "You want me to come to therapy with you?"

Clark nodded. "I don't want to go alone. And if you're there it doesn't change anything 'cause I tell you everything anyway." He flushed and thought about the ten year secret he kept from Bruce. "You know, except that one time," he offered a little smile and Bruce shoved him. 

"And never again," Bruce finished for him. 

Clark grinned and leaned across the gap to kiss him. "And never again." 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas everybody! 
> 
> Thank you very much for reading our story, we hope that you enjoyed it as much as we enjoyed writing it. It really just has been the most awesome year or stories and fandoms and our readers have just been amazing. We love you guys! See you in the new year!
> 
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